Obchody 50-lecia Miasta Marki uświetnione obecnością angielskiej delegacji z Bradford, rodzinnego miasta braci Briggsów

 

The Lion and Albert

There's a famous seaside place called Blackpool, That's noted for fresh air and fun, And Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom Went there with young Albert, their son.

A grand little lad was young Albert, All dressed in his best; quite a swell With a stick with an 'orse's 'ead 'andle, The finest that Woolworth's could sell.

They didn't think much to the Ocean: The waves, they was fiddling and small, There was no wrecks and nobody drownded, Fact, nothing to laugh at, at all.

So, seeking for further amusement, they paid and went into the Zoo, Where they'd Lions and Tigers and Camels, And old ale and sandwiches too.

There were one great big Lion called Wallace; His nose were all covered with scars- He lay in a somnolent posture, With the side of his face on the bars.

Now Albert had heard about Lions, How they was ferocious and wild- To see Wallace lying so peaceful, Well, it didn't seem right to the child.

So straightway the brave little feller, Not showing a morsel of fear, Took his stick with it's 'orse's 'ead 'andle ...And pushed it in Wallace's ear.

You could see that the Lion didn't like it, For giving a kind of a roll, He pulled Albert inside the cage with him, And swallowed the little lad hole.

Then Pa, who had seen the occurence, And didn't know what to do next, Said 'Mother! Yon Lion's 'et Albert', And Mother said, 'Well, I am vexed!'

Then Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom- Quite rightly, when all's said and done- Complained to the Animal Keeper, That the Lion had eaten their son.

The keeper was quite nice about it; He said 'What a nasty mishap. Are you sure that it's your boy he's eaten?' Pa said 'Am I sure' There's his cap!'

The manager had to be sent for. He came and he said 'What's to do?' Pa said 'Yon Lion's'et Albert, And 'im in his Sunday clothes, too.'

The Mother said, 'Right's right, young feller; I think it's a shame and a sin, For a lion to go and eat Albert, And after we've paid to come in.'

The manager wanted no trouble, He took out his purse right away, Saying "How much to settle the matter"? And Pa said 'What do you usually pay?'

But Mother had turned a bit awkward When she thought where her Albert had gone. She said 'No! someone's got to be summonsed'- So that was decided upon.

Then off they went to the Police Station, In front of the Magistrate chap; They told him what happened to Albert, And proved it by showing his cap.

The Magistrate gave his opinion That no one was really to blame And he said that he hoped the Ramsbottoms Would have further sons to their name.

At that Mother got proper blazing, 'And thank you, sir, kindly,' said she. 'What waste all our lives raising children To feed ruddy Lions? Not me!'

The Tyger by William Blake

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare sieze the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art. Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain? In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? what dread grasp Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears, And watered heaven with their tears, Did he smile his work to see? Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?