Guest poem sent in by William Grey
(Poem #1698) When I was Young and Ignorant
When I was young and ignorant I loved a Miss McDougall, Our days were spent in happiness, although our means were frugal; We did not sigh for worldly wealth, for vain and tawdry treasures, We were a simple country pair with simple country pleasures. Beneath the village chestnut-tree it was our joy to meet once; We used to tread the dewy fields with wonder-waking feet once; We wandered once in leafy lanes and walked in Woodlands shady; But now she's gone to Birmingham to be a Bearded Lady I loved her as I loved my life when I was young and tender, And happily our time was spent although our means were slender. We used to pass the golden days in countrified pursuits once; We walked through simple country bogs in simple country boots once. High hopes of happiness I had, but now my hopes are zero, Alas! My love has left me now to carve her own career O; Not all the hopes of her I had of her are worth a maravedi; My love has gone to Birmingham to be a Bearded Lady. My love now dwells in circus halls with clowns and tight-rope dancers, Where dromedaries play bassoons and sea-lions do the lancers; She moves amongst trick-bicyclists, buffoons and comic waiters, With elephants and acrobats and prestidigitators. No longer daily by my side she wanders through the hay now, The glamour of the public eye has lured are far away now. Remorseless Fates, my tender hopes how cruelly betrayed ye! My love has gone to Birmingham to be a Bearded Lady. When I was young and ignorant I loved a Miss McDougall; But that was e'er she heard the call of Fame's imperious bugle. I thought her kind as she was fair, but I was green and calfish; My love, though brighter than a star, was colder than a starfish. High hopes of happiness I had when I was young and tender; But time and tide have falsified my juvenile agenda. Farewell, my castle is in the air! Phantasmal mansions, fade ye! My love has gone to Birmingham to be a Bearded Lady.
Another chequered romantic adventure from the imagination of Patrick Barrington, once again from 'Songs of a Sub-Man' (London: Methuen & Co Ltd, 1934). Earlier romantic adventures by Barrington on Minstrels are  and . As usual an eccentric choice of lover and also, as usual, romantic disappointment. Though Barrington never married I wonder: was he ever engaged? William Grey  Poem #1551, My Love is a Theosophist -- Patrick Barrington  Poem #1597, I Met a Lady in the Wood -- Patrick Barrington [Martin adds] This one hits a new high for tortured yet perfect rhymes (even if he stole the "worth a maravedi"/lady rhyme from Gilbert! :)). Calfish/starfish was particularly groanworthy, especially since you can see it coming when he mentions the star. Delightful stuff.