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Title: The Turning Tide
Author: Harry Graham [
More Titles by Graham]
Jim 'Icks was a Tory, ten years back;
An' 'e cheered at each Tory win.
An' 'e'd stand an' argue as white was black,
For to 'elp them Tories in.
But times (an' parties) is changed since then,
An' 'e's wishful to 'elp 'em out agen.
'Rat!' sez you? Maybe that's true.
Nor 'e ain't the only one
As 'eard wot them Tories said they'd do,
An' as seed wot them Tories done;
An' 'e don't feel noways bound, don't Jim,
To blokes as 'as broke their word with 'im.
'E nursed 'is party a many a year,
An' 'e swollered their party tricks.
Just draw up a cheer to the fire, an' 'ear
Wot they promised the likes of 'Icks.
An' I'll tell you arterwards, if I can,
Wot the Tories done for the workin'-man.
* * * * *
Chamberlain, 'e was the fust to speak,--
An', o' course, 'e spoke cocksure,--
Of a pension of 'arf a crown a week
For the old, 'ard-workin' poor.
(An' many a cap was raised to Joe,
When 'e made that promise, ten year ago.)
Balfour nex' to the 'ustings comes,
With a scheme for to 'elp improve
Them dwellin'-'ouses in crowded slums,
Where there warn't no room to move.
(An' many a 'ope was kep' alive
By the thought o' that promise o' '95.)
Then come a plan for to keep away
Them furriners orf our shores;
We 'asn't no use for the likes o' they,
Wi' the crowds at our poor-'ouse doors.
(But our English workmen is still denied,
An' our English waiters can wait--outside!)
* * * * *
Ten year ago, that were. To-day
Such schemes is a trifle flat.
'Twas Election-time, as I needn't say,
When they promised the likes o' that.
An' our Unemployed in their thousands swarm,
An' our Poor Law waits for the pledged Reform.
Ten year ago, that were; an' yet
We're a-watchin', with 'opeless eye,
Our slum-choked women-folk starve an' sweat,
An' our stunted children die.
An' late an' early, early an' late,
The old men waits at the work'us gate.
I wouldn't be 'ard on them Tory chaps--
No doubt as they done their best;
But I can't 'elp thinkin' some'ow, per'aps,
They'd be none the worst of a rest.
That 'undred majority makes 'em slow,
Let alone all the trouble they've 'ad with Joe.
It's easy to sneer when you once begins,
An' it's easy to badger an' blame;
When the 'ins' is 'outs,' and the 'outs' is 'ins,'
Very like they'll be just the same!
No better, per'aps, but at least no wuss;
An' they can't very well do less for us!
Wot can this Guv'ment show to-day
But them promises throwed aside?
An' a country's confidence washed away
On the ebb of a Tory tide?
* * * * *
Ten long years since they fust began!
Ten good years for to plot an' plan!
An' wot 'a they done for the workin'-man?
[The end]
Harry Graham's poem: Turning Tide
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