Query any poem you want.

A Ballade of an Anti-puritan

By Gilbert Keith Chesterton

They spoke of Progress spiring round,

Of light and Mrs Humphrey Ward-

It is not true to say I frowned,

Or ran about the room and roared;

I might have simply sat and snored-

I rose politely in the club

And said, `I feel a little bored;

Will someone take me to a pub?'

The new world's wisest did surround

Me; and it pains me to record

I did not think their views profound,

Or their conclusions well assured;

The simple life I can't afford,

Besides, I do not like the grub-

I want a mash and sausage, `scored'-

Will someone take me to a pub?

I know where Men can still be found,

Anger and clamorous accord,

And virtues growing from the ground,

And fellowship of beer and board,

And song, that is a sturdy cord,

And hope, that is a hardy shrub,

And goodness, that is God's last word-

Will someone take me to a pub?

Envoi

Prince, Bayard would have smashed his sword

To see the sort of knights you dub-

Is that the last of them-O Lord

Will someone take me to a pub?