Classic Poem

The twangling of a zither
And the thin
Tinkle of a mandolin
With the plunking of guitars
Underneath the Naples stars
Is a pretty sort of music to while away a night
With delight:
But a concertina playing in a pub at Hartlepool
For a devil-rousing racket can put the lot to school.
If I'd only stayed at Naples
Evermore
In that cafe by the shore,
Listening to the pretty tunes
Of Italian pantaloons,
I'd still have hopes of glory and a mansion in the sky
By and by:
But the devil in his tangles took and tripped me like a fool
When he played a concertina in a pub at Hartlepool.