| Poem: |
I much admire, I must admit,
the man who robs a bank;
it takes a lot of guts and grit,
for lack of which I thank
the gods: a chap 'twould make of me
you wouldn't ask to tea.
I do not mean a burglar cove
who climbs into a house,
from room to room flash-lit to rove
as quiet as a mouse;
ah no, in crime he cannot rank
with him who robs a bank.
Who seemeth not to care a whoop
for danger at its height;
who handles what is known as 'soup,'
and dandles dynamite:
unto a bloke who can do that
i doff my bowler hat.
I think he is the kind of stuff
to be a mighty man
in battlefield, --aye, brave enough
the cross Victorian
to win and rise to high command,
a hero in the land.
What general with all his swank
has guts enough to rob a bank! |