They rarely get the good tunes – I wondered how they felt.
“I really can’t win, moaned a Second Violin,”
As its music was put on the stand.
“I think I’ve been cursed to not be a First,
Though why, I just can’t understand.
“I can cope with vibrato, legato, staccato,
Andante, vivace, the lot;
And I’m built just the same. What is their little game –
What have Firsts got that Seconds have not?
“Could I start pulling strings and see what that brings?
Catch the eye of the Leader, maybe?
No, that is just risible: to him, I’m invisible,
He has eyes for his Strad, never me.
“So it seems I am fated to be relegated
To pad out the sound of each chord,
Stuck under a chin as a Second Violin,
Second-fiddling, my talents ignored.”