Pawnbroker, pawnbroker, what will you lend me
On my grandmother's locket with the old gold chain?
(I wore it one night when my dear leaned to kiss me —
We were walking home in the cool grey rain.)

Pawnbroker, what will you lend me on my coat?
It's fine cloth. (The weather is warmer to-day.
It was cold when he gave me that coat on my birthday,
Reckless because they had raised his pay.)

Sign of the three golden balls, I am going;
For now I have nothing. As others have died,
Even so I can. I'll not be returning;
For pawnbroker, what would you lend on my pride?