George Robert Sims Poems

It is Christmas Day in the Workhouse,
And the cold bare walls are bright
With garlands of green and holly,
And the place is a pleasant sight:
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Billy's dead and gone to glory - so has Billy's sister Nell:
There's a tale I know about them were I poet I would tell
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I stood at eve, as the sun went down, by a grave where a woman lies,
Who lured men's souls to the shores of sin with the light of her wanton eyes;
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Been out in the lifeboat often? Ay, ay, sir, oft enough.
When it's rougher than this? Lor' bless you! this ain't what we calls rough!
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How is the boy this morning? Why do you shake your head?
Ah! I can see what’s happened—there’s a screen drawn round the bed.
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I saw a lady up a court that leads to Drury Lane,
She held her head between her hands, and seemed to be in pain.
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