The London 'Bobby' - A Tribute To The Policemen Of England's Capital

Here in my cosy corner,
    Before a blazing log,
I'm thinking of cold London
    Wrapped in its killing fog;
And, like a shining beacon
    Above the picture grim,
I see the London 'Bobby,'
    And sing my song for him.

I see his stalwart figure,
    I see his kindly face,
I hear his helpful answer
    At any hour or place.
For, though you seek some by-way
    Long miles from his own beat,
He tells you all about it,
    And how to find the street.

He looks like some bold Viking,
    This king of earth's police -
Yet in his voice lies feeling,
    And in his eye lies peace;
He knows and does his duty -
    (What higher praise is there?)
And London's lords and paupers
    Alike receive his care.

He has a regal bearing,
    Yet one that breathes repose;
It is the look and manner
    Of one who THINKS and KNOWS.
Oh, men who govern nations,
    In old worlds or in new,
Turn to the London 'Bobby'
    And learn a thing or two.