Ballade of a Special Edition
He comes; I hear him up the street--Bird of ill omen, flapping wideThe pinion of a printed sheet,His hoarse note scares the eventide.Of slaughter, theft, and suicideHe is the herald and the friend;Now he vociferates with pride--A double murder in Mile End!
A hanging to his soul is sweet;His gloating fancy's fain to bideWhere human-freighted vessels meet,And misdirected trains collide.With Shocking Accidents supplied,He tramps the town from end to end.How often have we heard it cried--A double murder in Mile End.
War loves he; victory or defeat,So there be loss on either side.His tale of horrors incomplete,Imagination's aid is tried.Since no distinguished man has died,And since the Fates, relenting, sendNo great catastrophe, he's spiedThis double murder in Mile End.
Fiend, get thee gone! no more repeatThose sounds which do mine ears offend.It is apocryphal, you cheat,Your double murder in Mile End.
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