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C J Dennis - A Holy War
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"Young friend!" . . . I tries to duck, but miss the bus.
   `E sees me first, an` `as me by the `and.
"Young friend!" `e sez; an` starts to make a fuss
   At meetin` me.  "Why, this," `e sez, "is grand!
   Events is workin` better than I planned.
It`s Providence that I should meet you thus.
   You`re jist the man," `e sez, "to make a stand,
         An` strive for us.

"Young friend," `e sez, "allow me to explain
   But wot `e `as to say too well I knows.
I got the stren`th uv it in Spadgers Lane
   Not `arf an hour before`and, when I goes
   To see if I could pick up news uv Rose,
After that dentist let me off the chain.
   ("Painless," `e`s labelled.  So `e is, I s`pose.
         I `ad the pain.)

"Young friend," `e sez. I let `im `ave `is say;
   Though I`m already wise to all `e said -
The queer old parson, with `is gentle way -
   (`E tied Doreen an` me when we was wed)
   I likes `im, from `is ole soft, snowy `ead
Down to `is boots.  `E ain`t the sort to pray
         When folks needs bread.

Yeh`d think that `e was simple as a child;
   An` so `e is, some ways; but, by and by,
While `e is talkin` churchy-like an` mild,
   Yeh catch a tiny twinkle in `is eye
   Which gives the office that `e`s pretty fly
To cunnin` lurks.  `E ain`t to be beguiled
   With fairy tales.  An` when I`ve seen `em try
         `E`s only smiled.

"Young friend," `e sez, "I am beset by foes.
   The Church," `e sez, "is in a quandary."
An` then `e takes an` spills out all `is woes,
   An` `ints that this `ere job is up to me.
   "Yer aid - per`aps yer strong right arm," sez `e,
"Is needed if we are to rescue Rose
   From wot base schemes an` wot iniquity
         Gawd only knows."

This is the sorry tale.  Rose, sick, an` low
   In funds an` frien`s, an` far too proud to beg,
Is gittin` sorely tempted fer to go
   Into the spielin` trade by one Spike Wegg.
   I knoo this Spike uv old; a reel bad egg,
`0o`s easy livin` is to git in tow
   Some country mug, an` pull `is little leg
         Fer all `is dough.

A crooked crook is Spike amongst the crooks,
   A rat, `oo`d come the double on `is friends;
Flash in `is ways, but innercint in looks
   Which `e works well fer `is un`oly ends.
   "It`s `ard to know," sez Snowy, "why Fate sends
Sich men among us, or why justice brooks
   Their evil ways, which they but seldom mends -
         Except in books.

"Young friend," `e sez, "You`re known in Spadgers Lane.
   You know their ways.  We must seek out this man.
With `er, pray`r an` persuasion `ave been vain.
   I`ve pleaded, but she`s bound to `is vile plan.
   I`d `ave you treat `im gently, if you can;
But if you can`t, well - I need not explain."
   (`E twinkles `ere) "I`m growin` partisan;
         I must refrain."

"Do you mean stoush?" I sez.  "Fer if yeh do
   I warn yeh that a scrap might put me queer."
"Young friend," sez `e, "I leave the means to you.
   Far be it from the Church to interfere
   With noble works." But I sez, "Now, look `ere,
I got a wife at `ome; you know `er, too.
   Ther`s certin things I never could make clear
         If once she knoo.

"I got a wife," I sez, "an` loves `er well,
   Like I loves peace an` quite.  An` if I goes
Down into Spadgers, raisin` merry `ell,
   Breakin` the peace an` things account uv Rose,
   Where that might land me goodness only knows.
`Ow women sees these things no man can tell.
   I`ve done with stoush," I sez.  "`Ard knocks an` blows
         `Ave took a spell.

"I`ve done with stoush," I sez.  But in some place
   Deep in me `eart a voice begun to sing;
A lurin` little voice, with motives base…
   It`s ten long years since I was in a ring,
   Ten years since I gave that left `ook a swing.
Ten weary years since I pushed in a face;
   An` `ere`s a chance to `ave a little fling
         With no disgrace.

"Stoush?  Stoush, young friend?" `e sez.  "Where `ave I `eard
   That term? I gather it refers to strife.
But there," `e sez, "why quarrel with a word?
   As you `ave said, indeed, I know yer wife;
   An` should she `ear you went where vice is rife
To battle fer the right - But it`s absurd
   To look fer gallantry in modrin life.
         It`s a rare bird.

"Young friend," `e sez.  An` quicker than a wink
   `Is twinklin` eyes grew sudden very grave.
"Young friend," `e sez, "I know jist wot yeh think
   Uv `ow us parsons blather an` be`ave.
   But I `ave `ere a woman`s soul to save -
A lonely woman, tremblin` on the brink
   Uv black perdition, blacker than the grave.
         An` she must sink.

"Yes, she must sink," `e sez.  "For I `ave done
   All that a man uv my poor parts can do.
An` I `ave failed!  There was not anyone
   That I could turn to, till I met with you.
   But now that `ope `as gone - an` `er `ope too."
"`Old on," I sez.  "Just let me think for one
   Brief `alf-a-mo.  I`d love a crack or two
         At this flash gun."

"Righto," I sez (an` turns me back on doubt)
   "I`m with yeh, parson. I go down to-night
To Spadgers, an` jist looks this Spike Wegg out."
   "Young friend," `e sez, "be sure you`ve chosen right.
   Remember, I do not desire a fight.
But if - " "Now don`t you fret," I sez, "about
   No vi`lince.  If I`m forced, it will be quite
         A friendly clout."

"Young friend," `e sez, "if you go, I go too.
   Maybe, by counsel, I may yet injuce
This evil man - " "It ain`t no game for you,"
   I argues with `im.  But it ain`t no use.
   "I go!" `e sez, an` won`t take no ixcuse.
So that`s all fixed.  An` us crusaders two
   Goes down to-night to Spadgers, to cut loose
         Till all is blue.

`Ow can Doreen make trouble or git sore?
   (Already I can `ear `er scold an` so 
But this ain`t stoushin`.  It`s a `oly war!
   The blessin` uv the Church is on the job.
   I`m a church-worker, with full leave to lob
A sacrid left on Spike Wegg`s wicked jor.
   Jist let me!  Once!  An` after, s`elp me bob,
         Never no more!
Source
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