THE ARMY LAUNDRESS
Besidea somber sally port upon a bastioned isleThere dwells a bare-armed laundry girl to serve the rank and file.Her name is Sheila Shanahan, she reigns in Soap Suds Row,The lane that won to luster in the army long ago.She bendeth o’er a wash tub while the sentries walk the walls,And pyramids are builded from the brooding cannon balls.She elevates an army post without the least design,The belle of all the barracks hanging clothes upon a line.Fate ransacked ancient reveries to dower youth’s desire,Unrolled the scrolls of Sidon and the tapestries of Tyre;She pilfered from Parnassus till the gods ran to and fro,Then gave her golden gleanings to the girl in Soap Suds Row.Oh, there are many lovers of sweet Sheila Shanahan,The seagulls and the sundown breeze upon the barbican;The pigeons on the parapets, the disappearing guns,The sign-boards on the magazines, the Colonel’s rompered sons,And while the sunset tarrieth and while an army waits,The children from the post school storm the dusty barrack gates;They wander into Soap Suds Row with laughter in the vanThe bravest of the cavaliers of Sheila Shanahan.
Besidea somber sally port upon a bastioned isleThere dwells a bare-armed laundry girl to serve the rank and file.Her name is Sheila Shanahan, she reigns in Soap Suds Row,The lane that won to luster in the army long ago.She bendeth o’er a wash tub while the sentries walk the walls,And pyramids are builded from the brooding cannon balls.She elevates an army post without the least design,The belle of all the barracks hanging clothes upon a line.Fate ransacked ancient reveries to dower youth’s desire,Unrolled the scrolls of Sidon and the tapestries of Tyre;She pilfered from Parnassus till the gods ran to and fro,Then gave her golden gleanings to the girl in Soap Suds Row.Oh, there are many lovers of sweet Sheila Shanahan,The seagulls and the sundown breeze upon the barbican;The pigeons on the parapets, the disappearing guns,The sign-boards on the magazines, the Colonel’s rompered sons,And while the sunset tarrieth and while an army waits,The children from the post school storm the dusty barrack gates;They wander into Soap Suds Row with laughter in the vanThe bravest of the cavaliers of Sheila Shanahan.
Besidea somber sally port upon a bastioned isleThere dwells a bare-armed laundry girl to serve the rank and file.
Besidea somber sally port upon a bastioned isle
There dwells a bare-armed laundry girl to serve the rank and file.
Her name is Sheila Shanahan, she reigns in Soap Suds Row,The lane that won to luster in the army long ago.
Her name is Sheila Shanahan, she reigns in Soap Suds Row,
The lane that won to luster in the army long ago.
She bendeth o’er a wash tub while the sentries walk the walls,And pyramids are builded from the brooding cannon balls.
She bendeth o’er a wash tub while the sentries walk the walls,
And pyramids are builded from the brooding cannon balls.
She elevates an army post without the least design,The belle of all the barracks hanging clothes upon a line.
She elevates an army post without the least design,
The belle of all the barracks hanging clothes upon a line.
Fate ransacked ancient reveries to dower youth’s desire,Unrolled the scrolls of Sidon and the tapestries of Tyre;
Fate ransacked ancient reveries to dower youth’s desire,
Unrolled the scrolls of Sidon and the tapestries of Tyre;
She pilfered from Parnassus till the gods ran to and fro,Then gave her golden gleanings to the girl in Soap Suds Row.
She pilfered from Parnassus till the gods ran to and fro,
Then gave her golden gleanings to the girl in Soap Suds Row.
Oh, there are many lovers of sweet Sheila Shanahan,The seagulls and the sundown breeze upon the barbican;
Oh, there are many lovers of sweet Sheila Shanahan,
The seagulls and the sundown breeze upon the barbican;
The pigeons on the parapets, the disappearing guns,The sign-boards on the magazines, the Colonel’s rompered sons,
The pigeons on the parapets, the disappearing guns,
The sign-boards on the magazines, the Colonel’s rompered sons,
And while the sunset tarrieth and while an army waits,The children from the post school storm the dusty barrack gates;
And while the sunset tarrieth and while an army waits,
The children from the post school storm the dusty barrack gates;
They wander into Soap Suds Row with laughter in the vanThe bravest of the cavaliers of Sheila Shanahan.
They wander into Soap Suds Row with laughter in the van
The bravest of the cavaliers of Sheila Shanahan.