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.