THE PUBLIC INTEREST

When rivals in the Party fray,

Their sluggish blood unwarmed,

An old-world courtesy display

(‘ My honourable friend,’ they say,

‘ Is surely misinformed?’ )

Such feeble methods I despise,

My principles are higher;

Opponents I apostrophise

With piercing and persistent cries

Of‘ Renegade!’ or‘ Liar!’

For I can hear, above the din,

A voice within my breast

That bids me use such language, in

The public interest.

Some golfers, when they miss a putt,

Look mortified or frown,

Keeping their lips discreetly shut,

They say‘ Good gracious!’ or‘ Tut-tut,

‘ That makes me seven down!’

Such self-control is hard to bear,

I loathe their sickly phrases,

And much prefer, to clear the air,

An honest‘ Blast!’ or‘ Blazes!’

Explaining, if the caddies grin

Or partners should protest,

That I am simply swearing, in

The public interest!

When ladies whom I chance to meet

In crowded Tube or tram

Attempt to oust me from my seat

Or tread upon my tender feet,

I always murmur‘ Damn!’

And when upon the telephone,

‘ Exchange’ remarks,‘ Line's busy!’

My choice of language, and its tone,

Makes hardened operators groan

And supervisors dizzy.

For I maintain, through thick and thin,

Discourtesy is best,

So long as you display it in

The public interest!