He staggered in from night and frost and fog
And lampless streets: hed guzzled like a hog
And drunk till he was dazed. And now he came
To hearhe couldnt call to mind the name
But hed been given a ticket for the show,
And thought hed (hiccup) chance his luck and go.
The hall swam in his eyes, and soaring light
Was dazzling splendid after the dank night.
He sat and blinked, safe in his cushioned seat,
And licked his lips; hed like a brandy, neat.
Who is the King of Glory? they were saying,
He pricked his ears; what was it? Were they praying?...
By God, it might be Heaven! For singers stood
Ranked in pure white; and everyone seemed good;
And clergymen were sitting meekly round
With joyful faces, drinking in the sound;
And holy women, and plump whiskered men.
Could this be Heaven? And was he dead? And then
They all stood up; the mighty chorus broke
In storms of song above those blameless folk;
And Hallelujah, Hallelujah! rang
The burden of the triumph that they sang.
He gasped; it must be true; hed got to Heaven
With all his sins that seventy times were seven;
And whispering Hallelujah mid their shout,
He wondered when Lord God would turn him out.
