Works in the Bulletin 1910
Gregory Wade is a man of dark sayings. Once again he has stated with a face of gloom that if certain Labor
members don't cease their attacks he will tell all he knows about them. This murky taunt is Wade's favorite
weapon; he seems to know a horrid secret about everybody. - BULLETIN, 24/3/'10.
Aha! Beware! I know your guilty past!
I was a witness of that secret crime.
One word! and all your fondest hopes I blast.
I bide me time.
I hold you in me grip, unhappy man,
And I shall cr-r-rush you if you thwart me plan.
Hist! Have a care, lest I divulge the plot.
I saw you forge the will! With these two eyes
I recognised the corpse, and, know the spot
Where it now lies.
I know the hand that sped the fatal blow,
And stole the widder's che-ild. Aha! I know!
Be warned! Seek not to sully my fair fame.
Who stole the papers?. . . Ah!. . . Then have a care
The man that pawned the spoons - I know his name;
And I'm aware
Who lured the girl aboard the lugger. Aye!
All - all is known to me, for I was nigh.
I know who shook the fowls! ... Then do not seek
To try my patience over much, for lo,
You're doomed if but one little word I speak;
For well I know
Who killed the dog and set the house alight
And robbed the clothes-line at the dead o' night.
Remember! All your secrets I could tell.
To me your cupboard doors are all ajar.
Each hidden skeleton I know full well.
Push me too far,
And I shall tell the world who dodged his rent,
And privately ate sausages in Lent.
'Twas I that lurked unseen within your lair!
'Twas I that overheard the villain's plot!
I saw you filch the marriage lines! Beware!
I heard the shot!
How little you suspected who was by
When you purloined the jools. Aha! 'Twas I!
You cannot hide your covert crimes from me;
To me your private life's an open book.
Then do not cross my path or, suddenly -
One word! One look!
And all your guilty past, the world shall know,
And to the dust your pride be humbled low.
My mind is the receptacle for all
The peccadilloes of mine enemies.
I hold them sternly at my beck and call,
Just as I please.
And it was I who hid in that dark lane
And heard them plan the wrecking of the train.
Hist! If you speak one word all, all is lost!
Once thwart my will and, lo, your doom I seal!
Eye you frustrate my plans count well the cost;
I shall reveal
Your sin, and on you heap anathema!
Hist! We shall meet again. Farewell. Aha!
The Bulletin, 14 April 1910, p18