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Bread and Circuses

Chapter 73: XII
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About This Book

A lyrical collection of short poems ranges from quiet country scenes and childhood memories to urban sketches and religious reflections. The poet renders streams, gardens, market sellers, and domestic interiors in close sensory detail while pairing everyday observation with moral and spiritual meditation. Animal vignettes and playful pieces for children sit alongside elegies, prayers, and ironic portraits of modern life, producing tones of humour, tenderness, and solemnity. Varied forms and concise portraits move between pastoral lanes, London streets, and intimate household moments while attending to time, sorrow, and faith.

XII

While Jocko thus lamented, through the crowd There came a little girl who sobbed aloud And clutched her Mother’s hand; ’twas Betsey-Jane, Who all the afternoon had sought in vain Her Jocko cast away in Endless Street; Tired are her little gaitered legs, her feet So weary, each new thought of Jocko brings New tears to wet her woollen bonnet strings And drip from each blue tassel to the ground. She would not look on all the beasts around, But Jocko saw her coat, and “Betsey-Jane,” He cried, “Do come and take me home again!”