The Late Mr Shakespeare

Chapter Twenty-Two Pickleherring's Song

I think it is high time that I gave you that ballad which has now been sung three times in the course of this book - by my mother to me to get me to sleep, by me to Mr William Shakespeare when I was sitting on the wall of the yard of that tavern when I first met him, and again by me in the last chapter to amuse Mr John Shakespeare in his cups.

Here are the words, then, of O Polly Dear:

Oh how I wish that I was there

With my dear Polly at the fair!

O Polly dear

Why aren't you here?

We were so happy at the fair!

About my feet the grass grows green -

Greener grass I've never seen!

O Polly dear

Why aren't you here?

How happy we were at the fair!

Above my head the night is black -

O my lost love, come back! come back!

O Polly dear

Why aren't you here?

How happy we were at the fair!

Oh how I wish that I was there

With my dear Polly at the fair!

O Polly dear

Why aren't you here?

We were so happy at the fair!

This is the saddest song I ever heard. I think it has something to do with the sound of the rhyme changing from there to here and then back to fair, and perhaps also with the little variation of rhythm in the last line of the two middle verses, but I'm a comedian not a poet, and I don't really know.

Here it is with the music: