A shot rang out;
And the crowd moved; making a dark and sullen sound.
HUBBUB? RHUBARB, SUBURB,
RUB ALLUB, BAH SEELUB,
AH UB A HUBBURB,
And its fringes drew back like singed fingers,
Leaving a crumpled thing
Clutching the reddening ground,
And a shriek seared the silence that fell
As the soldiers slid forward a pace,
And a stone flew, cutting the corporals face,
Hurting his cheek.
And, in the HUBBUB,
A voice cried MOLASSES,
Or maybe ENOSIS!
– – – – – – it sounded Greek
To the soldiers, as the crowd moved,
Mourning in dark and sullen sound.
Copyright H. St.Vincent Beechey, 30 October ’55.