---

C J Dennis - `I Dips me Lid`
Work rating: Low

"Young sir," `E sez . . . Like that . . .   It made me feel
Romantic like, as if me dream was reel.
     `Is dress was fancy, an` `is style was grave.
     An` me ? I `ope I know `ow to be`ave
In `igh-toned company, for ain`t I been
Instructed careful by me wife, Doreen ?
     " Sing small," she sez.  An` that`s iist wot I did.
     I sounds me haitches, an` I dips me lid.

"Young sir," `e sez . . .   O` course you understand
`Twus jist a dream.  But, on the other `and,
     `E seemed so reel as `e sat spoutin` there
     Beside me on ole Dame Macquarie`s Chair,
Lookin` across the `arbor while `e talked-
Seemed sumpthink more that jist a ghost `oo walked
     Out o` the past . . . "Phillip by name," `e said.
     A queer ole cock, wif lace, an` wig on `ead.

It `appened this way: I `ad jist come down,
After long years, to look at Sydney town.
     An` `struth! Was I knocked endways? Fair su`prised?
     I never dreamed! That arch that cut the skies
The Bridge! I never thort there could `a` been-
I never knoo, nor guessed - I never seen . . .       .
     Well, Sydney`s `ad some knocks since I been gone,
     But strike! This shows she keeps on keepin` on.

I`d strolled about the town for `arf a day
Then dragged me carcass round the `arbor way
     To view the Bridge from Dame Macquarrie`s Chair
     Then parks me frame, an` gits to thinkin` there-
Thinkin` of older days; an` I suppose
I must `ave nodded orf into a doze.
     Nex` thing I knoo, ole Phillip come an` sat
     Beside me, friendly like, an` starts to chat.

"Young sir," `e sez.  "You, too, in sheer amaze
Look upon this, and hark to other days,
     An` dream of this fair city`s early start.
     In which (`e bows) I played my `umble part-
My `umble part - a flagpole an` a tent."
"Come orf!" sez I. "You was a fine ole gent.
     Reel nob.  I`ve read about the things you did.
     You picked some site." (`E bows. I dips me lid).

"Young sir," `e sez.  "I`ve dwelt in spirit `ere
To watch this city waxin` year by year:
     But yesterday, from a mere staff, a tent,
     Wonder on wonder as the swift years went-
A thrivin` village, then a busy town,
Then, as a stride, a city of renown.
     Oh! what a wondrous miracle of growth
     Think you not so?" "Too right," I sez.  "My oath!"

"I`ve watched, young sir," `e sez.  "An` I `ave feared
Sometimes; feared greatly when ill days appeared.
     Yet still they fought and wrought.  I had small need
     To doubt the great heart of this sturdy breed.
Black war has come.  Yet, over half a world,
Their sons into that bloody fray they hurled
     And still they triumphed.  Still their lodestar shone."
     "Sure thing," sez I. " They kep` on keepin` on."

"Young sir," `e sez.  "The tears well in my eyes
When I behold von arch that cleaves the skies -
     That mighty span, triumphant, where we view
     My old friend Darwin`s vision now made true:
`There the proud arch, Colossus-like, bestride
Yon glittering stream and bound the chafing tide!
     `Twas so he dreamed a few short years agone.
     Spoke truly, sir; they keep on keeping on."

So Phillip spoke `is piece, fair puffed wif pride.
An` `im an` me dreamed by the `arbor-side
     I, of the scene before, of years to be,
     An` of the marvels that men yet might see
`Im, of a lantern gleamin` thro` the fog
To light a tent, an` two men, an` a dog . . . .
     Then both of us, like some queer instinct bids,
     Stands up, serloots the Bridge, an` dips our lids.
Source
The script ran 0.002 seconds.