VER1 * -ZAY PARFAIT GENT1L KNIGHT A KNIGHT there was : he

wasn't out of Chaucer,

He wasn't out of Spenser, Nor yet Cervantes, no sir: This sely knight, as Chaucer would have classed him, (But Chaucer pre-deceased him, And therefore never placed him), This elfin knight, as Spenser might have put it, Or Cervantes, if he'd thought it,

Or Bunyan, though I doubt it—

But I wander from my onions.. . . In the days When Britain was at peace, This knight, or wight: as we should say, This bloke, Frequently wrote, and also often spake, Concerning cities and their sad condition: He thought to rouse emotion In the people of his nation To rescue little children from the slumlands, Restore them to green homelands In sight ol friendly farmlands.

This knight-at-arms (in Keats's fancy lettering), Alone and palely spluttering, For years continued bothering : The quest obsessed his breast, and kept him running, Of Town and Country Planning : This gentle knight was pricking on the Plan: The Plan stood still : his pricking was in vain.

He came to thank the situation chronic. . . .

Then panic followed panic To the manic pause of Munich: And then o'er blackened cities stars exploding, And flying pirates raiding And flying steel intruding.

El Caballero de la Triste Figura (I've not your tongue, Senora, But such lines look superior), This rue-faced knight conceived the time appropriate More strongly to expatiate: The bombs that from a hostile sky had come Had let in Light, in senses more than one.

Ce Chevalier sans Peur et sans Reproche (If he could be labelled such) Had a text from which to preach. . . .

Whether because he did his stuff effectively, Or fortune smiled seductively, Or rulers reasoned actively, I know not, and to say I don't is honester: But the Gov'ment made a Barrister A brand-new Planning Minister.

So merry was the knight at this great change, He sang and had a binge: "The sun of Planning dawns upon our planet: We've almost done it once we have begun it! "

Alack, this knight who showed such shining prescience Must have had knight-starvations, For he lacked a knightly patience: Each year that passed was clearly steering nearer to The era he'd been peering to, But he couldn't wait a year or two. . . .

When peace came round again in proper sequency, The office of the Ministry

Had been furnished a la Regency,

And vast research discovered slums in Hull, Villages dull and small, And London somewhat swole.

The knight could not have been so verray parfait: I regret to say he laughed.

Without rash Acts no Ministry could meet him: So what was there to do but liquidate him? . . .

In behint yon auld fail dyke, I wot There lies a new-slain knight. . . . F. J. 0.