View source for Ragtime!

''Ragtime!'' is a poem written by [[Arthur Conan Doyle]] first published in the [[The Daily Telegraph]] on 30 april 1912, and collected in [[The Guards Came Through and Other Poems]] on 16 december 1919.


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== Editions ==

* in ''[[The Daily Telegraph]]'' (30 april 1912 [UK]) only the 4 last strophes
* in ''[[Souvenir Programme of the Matinee Held at the London Hippodrome]]'' (30 april 1912 [UK])
* in ''[[The Guards Came Through and Other Poems]]'' (16 december 1919, [[John Murray]] [UK])
* in ''[[The Guards Came Through and Other Poems]]'' (1920, [[George H. Doran Co.]] [US])


== Ragtime! ==

["During the catastrophe the band of the Titanic played negro melodies and ragtime until the last moment, when they broke into a hymn." — Daily Paper.]


Ragtime! Ragtime! Keep it going still!<br/>
Let them hear the ragtime! Play it with a will!<br/>
Women in the lifeboats, men upon the wreck,<br/>
Take heart to hear the ragtime lilting down the deck.


Ragtime! Ragtime! Yet another tune!<br/>
Now the "Darkey Dandy," now "The Yellow Coon!"<br/>
Brace against the bulwarks if the stand's askew,<br/>
Find your footing as you can, but keep the music true!


There's glowing hell beneath us where the shattered boilers roar,<br/>
The ship is listing and awash, the boats will hold no more!<br/>
There's nothing more that you can do, and nothing you can mend,<br/>
Only keep the ragtime playing to the end.


Don't forget the time, boys! Eyes upon the score!<br/>
Never heed the wavelets sobbing down the floor!<br/>
Play it as you played it when with eager feet<br/>
A hundred pair of dancers were stamping to the beat.


Stamping to the ragtime down the lamp-lit deck,<br/>
With shine of glossy linen and with gleam of snowy neck,<br/>
They've other thoughts to think to-night, and other things to do,<br/>
But the tinkle of the ragtime may help to see them through.


Shut off, shut off the ragtime! The lights are falling low!<br/>
The deck is buckling under us! She's sinking by the bow!<br/>
One hymn of hope from dying hands on dying ears to fall—<br/>
Gently the music fades away—and so, God rest us all!








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* [[Sir Arthur Conan Doyle:Complete Works|Back to Complete Works]]
* [[Sir Arthur Conan Doyle|Back to Conan Doyle]]