Little Lord of Death
Little Lord of death
Take a mighty step
Dance, Dance,
To the High Hop tune;
Dance, Dance,
With the lady fair
Who plays her flute
To the jealous moon.
Little Lord of death
Your feet come soon
They know each step
In the jig and rune
They know each step
As the lady fair
Shows a clean heel
In the grass in June.
As the young girls played
On a summer’s day,
As the young girls tinkled
A piano tune;
And sang sentimental
And played violins
Never knowing you were bowing
Your Nick Nock tune.
In a house by the sea
That they took for the summer
If help came late,
If help came soon;
Little Lord of death
Had ticked off a number
A tired little number,
In a rented room.
Dance, Dance, Mighty Lord of Death
Dance High
To your hip hop tune,
The rose that was red
Is the rose that is white
And she fell down dead
In a rented room.
The roses white
And the roses red
They burst with joy
When they’re in bloom,
They sink and sigh
And sodden lie.
When they open their ears
To your Nick Nock tune.
© Anne Le Marquand Hartigan 1993
From Now Is A Moveable Feast, Salmon Poetry, 1993