Classic Poem

I think I smell smoke. MR. TAYLOR
She thinks she smells smoke. MRS. TAYLOR
I think I smell smoke. MR. TAYLOR
Oh. What is it? She says she thinks she smells smoke. MRS. TAYLOR
What does it mean, what does it mean?
This smell of smoke may indicate,
That we'll be burned — oh-h-h, awful fate! MR. TAYLOR
Behold the smell grows stronger yet,
The house is burning, I'd regret
To perish in the curling flames;
Oh, horror! horror! horror! ! ! MR. AND MRS. TAYLOR
Oh, sad is our lot, sad is our lot,
To perish in the flames so hot,
To curl and writhe and fry and sizz,
Oh, what a dreadful thing it is
To think of such a thing! MRS. TAYLOR
We must escape! MR. TAYLOR
Yes, yes, we must escape! MRS. TAYLOR
We have no time to lose. MR. TAYLOR
Ah, bitter truth, ah, bitter truth,
We have no time to lose. MR. AND MRS. TAYLOR
Sad is our lot, sad is our lot,
To perish in the flames so hot. MR. TAYLOR
Hark, what is it? MRS. TAYLOR
Hark, what is it? MR. TAYLOR
It is the dread alarm of fire. MRS. TAYLOR
Ah, yes, ah, yes, it is the dread alarm. MR. TAYLOR
The dread alarm strikes on the ear
And chills me with an awful fear.
The house will burn, oh, can it be
That I must die in misery,
That I must die in misery,
The house will burn, oh, can it be
That I must die in misery? MRS. TAYLOR
Come, let us fly! MR. TAYLOR
'Tis well. 'Tis well. We'll fly at once.

(Enter all the other residents of the fifth floor.) MR. TAYLOR

Kind friends, I have some news to tell.
This house is burning, it were well
That we should haste ourselves away
And save our lives without delay. CHORUS
What is this he tells us?
It must be so;
The building is on fire
And we must go.
Oh, hasten, oh, hasten, oh, hasten away.
Our terror we should not conceal,
And language fails to express the alarm
That in our hearts we feel. MR. AND MRS. TAYLOR
Oh, language fails to express the alarm
That in their hearts they feel.

(Enter the Janitor) JANITOR

Hold, I am here. MR. TAYLOR
Ah, it is the Janitoro. MRS. TAYLOR
Can I believe my senses,
Or am I going mad?
It is the Janitoro,
It is indeed the Janitoro. JANITOR
Such news I have to tell. MR. TAYLOR
Ah, I might have known
He has such news to tell.
Speak and break the awful suspense. MRS. TAYLOR
Yes, speak. JANITOR
I come to inform you
That you must quickly fly.
The fearful blaze is spreading,
To tarry is to die.
The floors underneath you
Are completely burned away,
They cannot save the building,
So now escape I pray. MRS. TAYLOR
Oh, awful message.
How it chills my heart. JANITOR
The flames are roaring loudly,
Oh, what a fearful sound!
You can hear the people shrieking
As they jump and strike the ground.
Oh, horror overtakes me,
And I merely pause to say
That the building's doomed for certain,
Oh, haste, oh, haste away. MRS. TAYLOR
Oh, awful message.
How it chills my heart.
Yet we will sing a few more arias
Before we start. MR. TAYLOR
Yes, a few more arias and then away. CHORUS
Oh, hasten, oh, hasten, oh, hasten away. MRS. TAYLOR
Now, e'er I retreat,
Lest death o'ertakes me
I'll speak of the fear
That convulses and shakes me,
I sicken to think what may befall,
Oh, horror! horror! ! horror! ! ! MR. TAYLOR
The woman speaks the truth,
And there can be no doubt
That we will perish soon
Unless we all clear out. CHORUS
Oh, hasten, oh, hasten, oh, hasten away. ( But why go further? The supposition is that they continued
the dilatory tactics of grand opera and perished in the flames .)