Fancy’s Knell (Parody) Poem by Gert Strydom

(with apologies to A.E. Housman)

When sailors were home from the harbour
every Thom, Dick and Harry
a man would call the friend in his favour
and both would send for thee.
And in little animal like prances
across the meadow no one could wait
to jive with envious glances
whenever you played for Harry and his mate.

Tom, Dick and Harry had frolicking little pleasures
and with ladies content they were
to visit them without proper measures
even the old to dare
and you so intensely playing
that every second woman would weep
while the light of youth was decaying
and with no one you would sleep.

No one took your fancy,
not even glamorous girls with skins in tan,
not even big bosomed Nancy
or slender little Fan;
and to whatever girl would lift her glances
you stayed totally mute,
while everybody at the dances
were humming with your flute.

Your days as a man between the women was numbered
and you did not meet anyone at the surf
and nowhere between them slumbered
even in smooth green miles of turf,
even in grass and clover
you like the sun at night would fade
wishing to get a conversation over
to hide in the lofty shade.

While women on you advances
you lift your flute to play:
come ladies learn the dances
and let you all be away.
Tomorrow you will be witty
and away you will be
pretty and dirty
but it will not be from me.

[Reference: XLI Fancy’s knell by A.E. Housman.]