The Tragedy of Nix Baswer

Book One
As he awoke,

The dawn was upon,

Realising his stroke,

He played with his faun,

An extraordinary man,

I cannot describe,

But heavy was the land,

As I sadly scribe,

The verse I recite,

Is not my own,

His name meant the night,

As hard as a stone,

It started out in Summer,

And ended next Spring,

A dangerous charmer,

Who caused us to sing,

An orphan by hand,

No school to he went,

Could barey stand.

Never paid his rent,

He got kicked out,

Envy in his mind,

Not skinny but stout,

Couldn't work the grind,

A jobless old fool,

A thief and a thug,

Tripping the stool,

And went on to mug,

Drinking and sinning,

Were what he did best,

Rosemary pinning,

He did not wear on his vest,

Not paying respect,

To the dead one that day,

Was never blessed,

Not good nor gay,

Never smiled,

Unless evilly,

Lodged for a while,

With his pal old Willie,