John Betjeman

The Cockney Amorist

Oh when my love, my darling, 
    You've left me here alone, 
I'll walk the streets of London 
    Which once seemed all our own.

The vast suburban churches 
    Together we have found: 
The ones which smelt of gaslight 
    The ones in incense drown'd; 
I'll use them now for praying in 
    And not for looking round.

No more the Hackney Empire 
    Shall find us in its stalls 
When on the limelit crooner 
    The thankful curtain falls, 
And soft electric lamplight 
    Reveals the gilded walls.

I will not go to Finsbury Park 
    The putting course to see 
Nor cross the crowded High Road 
    To Williamsons' to tea, 
For these and all the other things 
    Were part of you and me.

I love you, oh my darling, 
    And what I can't make out 
Is why since you have left me 
    I'm somehow still about.