One response to “Cut the Now, and Dance”

  1. All this talk of dancing called to mind a favourite frippery of mine by J.B. Morton, a great English newspaper humourist who wrote a funny column under the alias ‘Beachcomber’ in the Daily Express for some fifty-odd years.

    The Dancing Cabman

    Alone on the lawn
    The cabman dances
    In the dew of dawn he kicks and prances
    His bowler is set on his bullet head
    For his boots are wet and his aunt is dead.

    There on the lawn
    As the light advances
    On the tide of the dawn
    The cabman dances.

    Swift and strong as a garden roller
    He dances along in his little bowler
    Skimming the lawn with royal grace
    The dew of dawn on his great red face
    To fairy flutes as the light advances
    In square black boots the cabman dances.

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