COUNT CABOUR.

In Memoriam.

Weep, Italy, weep!

For the sun of thy dawning,

Now set in midday:

For the flower of thy morning,

In bloom pass'd away.

On his brow be the laurel,

Fame's smile on his sleep,—

But weep for thy Hero,

Weep, Italy, weep!

Weep, Italy, weep!

For thy great one departed—

The eloquent breath:

For the strong, the high hearted,

Now silent in death.

For the lion-like courage;

The eye of the lynx;

The wisdom that baffled

The Gallican sphinx;

That humbled the pride

Of the priesthood of Rome;

Thy falchion abroad,

And thy buckler at home;

In whose life thou wert first,

And the last on whose lip,—

For thy Patriot—Statesman—

Weep, Italy, weep!

Weep, Italy! weep—

And the loud cannon's rattle

Make mourn for the brave—

For the light of thy battle,

Cold-quench'd in the grave!

For the daring that conquer'd

By Mincio's flood;

That wiped out each slave-stain

In Austrian blood;

That swept the red eagle

From Gaeta's steep,—

For his Country's Avenger

Let Italy weep!

Yes, Italy! weep!

For the arm that has righted

Thy wrongs and thy shame;

For the hand that has lighted

Bright Liberty's flame:

That took from thee—Scorning!

That left thee—Renown!

Thy long scatter'd jewels

Gave back to thy crown,—

That nerved thee to conquer,

That taught thee to keep,

For the man that has saved thee

Weep, Italy, weep!

9110

'TWAS sunset—(much ill-usèd hour,

And Southey swears it's yellow!)—

And so I lay and smoked the weed—

Immaculate Havannah!—

And watch'd a spider nobbling flies

In an artistic manner.

And mused in speculative vein

On England, and her story;

Why Palmerston was dubb'd a Whig,

And Derby was a Tory;—

Which diff'ring Poets tell you

Is ev'ry shade from green to red,

Why Manchester detested war,

And cottons took delight in;

Why Cobden's voice was all for peace,

And Horsman's all for fighting;—

Why England sent out Bibles' store,

To teach our pig-tail'd brother;

And gave him Gospel with one hand,

And Opium with the other;—

And why the Church was always poor,

And Lawyers lived in clover,

And why my tailor made me pay

His last.. account.. twice... over...

And why———

Perhaps it was the scent

That hover'd round my bow'r?

Perhaps it was the flies that haunt

That soul-subduing hour?

Or else those interesting gnats,

Which sting one so severely,

Made dreamy music round my head,

Until I slept—or nearly:—

But lo! I floated on a pool,

Beneath a monstrous funnel,

Whose crowning disc shone faint above,

Like sun-light thro' a tunnel;

And forms and faces quaint and strange

Swept by me ev'ry minute;

And ev'ry breast transparent lay

And had a window in it.

Then sudden thro' my mind it flash'd—

What mania could have got'em—

The place was truth's historic well,

And I—was at the bottom!

And first I mark'd a sombre man *

Of aspect wondrous saintly,

Whose pious eyes look'd shock'd and good,

If Sin but whisper'd faintly;

* Sir John Paul.

And every Sunday in the plate,

His clinking gold was given

With such an air—the righteous vow'd

His alms had conquer'd Heaven!

And such his godly wrath'gainst all

Who betted, swore, or liquor'd,—

Old women said around his head

An Angel halo flicker'd.

But looking through his heart I saw

A blank, dark, moral torpor,—

And while he gave his princely alms

He cursed the needy pauper.

And all men grovell'd at his feet

With coax, and crawl, and wheedle;—

But I thought of Dives' burning tongue

And the parabolic needle.

And next I spied a priestly band,

In cassock, cope, and mitre,

Who diff'ring slightly from the Church,

Lent all their wits to spite her,—

With some who thought church-music gave

The Devil grievous handles;

And some who lit Polemic War

By lighting altar-candles;

And one who held a certain place

Most probable to get to,

Unless he preach'd in a scarlet cloak

And pray'd in afalsetto!—

Butonething I could plainly read,

On ev'ry breast displaying;—

The rev'rend men took more delight

In quarrelling than praying!

They pass'd—and lo! an Hebrew youth,

To ebon locks confessing,

The sturdy yeomanry of Bucks

In honey'd phrase addressing.

And so enthusiastic wax'd

The sleek bucolic charmer;

As if his body, soul, and brains,

Had all been born a farmer.

And he felt "glad" and "proud," he said,

To meet his friends again—

"His valued friends!"—and in his heart

He wished himself in Spain;—

Of all spots in the world, he said,

To see themtherehe'd rather,—

And inly sent them ev'ry one

To Jericho—or farther.

And so he gave their right good health—

And off it went in toppers;

And call'd them "Men and Patriots,"

And in his heart "Clodhoppers."—

And then—with very blandest smiles—

From self and boon carousers,

Gave prizes to some model louts,

And onea pair of trousers!!*

* Vide "Times" of 4 Nov. 1857, giving an account of the meeting of the Amersham and Chesham Agricultural Association.

And as he cried "Take, fine old man,

"These best of merit's brandings,"—

He thought "Was ever such a Calf

"On such thin understandings!"

Just then roll'd by, so bluff and bold,

A tar—from truck to kelson—

And prophesied such vast exploits,

Men cried—"Another Nelson!"

"You'll see," quoth he, "I'llshortly be

"In Heav'n or Cronstadt reckon'd"—

But never meant to chance thefirst,

Or go too near thesecond.

And then I lost him in the crowd,

Nor could the question try on;

If I'd heard the voice of Balaam's ass

Or the roar of Britain's lion;

But when I thought what bumping things

The hero had been saying,

I felt I knew what Gray must mean

By the din of battlebraying.—

0118m

9119

OOD gracious, Julia! wretched girl,

What horror do I see?

What frantic fiend has done the

deed

That rends your charms from

me?

Those matchless charms which like

the sun

Lit up Belinda Place—

What fiend, I ask, in human mask

Has dared to black your face?

Your cheeks that once out-bloom'd the rose

Are both of ebon hue;

Your chin is green—your lips are brown—

Your nose is prussian blue!

This mom the very driven snow

Was not so stainless pure,—

And now, alack! you're more a black,

Than any black-a-more.

Some wretch has painted you! Oh, Jove,

That I could clutch his throat!—

That I could give his ears acuff,

Who gave your face acoat:

If there is justice in the land—

But no:—the law is bosh:

Altho' it's tme you're black and blue

That remedy "won't wash."

Revenge, I say!—yet hold, no rage—

I will be calm, sweet wife—

Calm—icycalm——————Speak, woman, speak,

That I may have his life!!

Who did the deed?—

"Oh! Charles,'twasyou!

"Nay, dearest, do not shrink—

"This face and chin!—I've wash'd it in

"Your Photographic Ink!"

0121m

(Not by A—f—d T—y—n.)

9122

OUTHWARD Ho—Here we go!—

O'er the wave onward,

Out from the Harbor of Cork

Sail'd the Six Hundred!

Sail'd like Crusaders thence,

Burning for Peter's pence,—

Burning for fight and fame—

Burning to show their zeal—

Into the gates of Rome,

Into the jaws of Hell,

(It's all the same)

March'd the Six Hundred!

"Barracks, and tables laid!

Food for the Pope's Brigade!"

But ev'ry Celt afraid,

Gazed on the grub dismay'd—

Twigg'd he had blunder'd;—

"Who can eat rancid grease?

Callthisa room a-piecc?" *

"Silence unseemly din,

Prick them with bayonets in."—

Blessed Six Hundred!

Waves ev'ry battle-blade.—

"Forward! the Pope's Brigade!"—

Was there a man obeyed?

No—where they stood they stay'd,

Tho' Lamoriciere pray'd,

Threaten'd, and thunder'd,—

* A room for each man, and a table furnished from the fat of the land, were among the inducements reported to have been held out to the "Pope's own."

"Charge!" Down their sabres then

Clash'd, as they turn'd—and ran—

Sab'ring the empty air,

Each of one taking care,—

Here, there, and ev'rywhere

Scatter'd and sunder'd.

Sick of the powder smell,

Down on their knees they fell;

Howling for hearth and home—

Cursing the Pope of Rome—

Whilst afar shot and shell

Volley'd and thunder'd;

Captured, alive and well,

Ev'ry Hibernian swell,

Came back the tale to tell;

Back from the states of Rome—

Back from the gates of Hell—

Safe and sound ev'ry man—

Jack of Six Hundred!

When shall their story fade?

Oh the mistake they made!

Nobody wonder'd.

Pity the fools they made—

Pity the Pope's Brigade—

Nobbled Six Hundred!

9126

US! ever wus!:—By freak of Puck's

My most exciting hopes are dash'd;

I never wore my spotless ducks

But madly—wildly!—they were

splash'd.

I never roved by Cynthia's beam,

To gaze upon the starry sky;

But some unpleasant beetle came,

And charged into my pensive eye:

And oh! I never did the swell

In Regent-street, amongst the beaus,

But smuts the most prodigious fell,

And always settled on my Nose!

0127m

(New Year's Eve,'58.)

9128

T was the huge metropolis

With fog was like to choke;

It was the gentle cabby—

horse

His ancient knees that

broke;—

And, oh, it was the cabby-man

That swore from ear to ear,

And did vituperate his eyes

Considerably severe,

If any swell should make him stir

Another step that year!

Then up and spake that bold cabman,

Unto his inside Fare,—

"I say, you Sir,—come out of that!—

"I say, you Sir in there—

"Six precious aggrawatin miles

"I've druv to this here gate,

"And that poor injer'd hanimal

"Is in a faintin state;

"There aint a thimblefull of shine,

"The fog's as black as pitch,—

"I'm flummox'd'tween them posteses

"And that most 'ateful ditch.

"So bundle out! my'oss is beat;

"I'm sick of this'ere night;—

I say, you Sir in there,—hear?——

He's bolted—blow me tight!"

0130m

Wuw—Wuw—Wuw—Wuw—Wuw—Wuw—

W-Waterloo Place? yes you

T—Take the first tut—tut—tut—turning

that faces you,—

Lul—left, and then kuk—kuk—kuk,—kuk—

kuk—kuk—keep up Pell Mell'till you

See the Wuw—Wuw——Wuw——Wuw——

Zounds, Sir, you'll get there before I

can tell it you!

0131m

9132

ID you never hear a rustling,

In the comer of your room;

When the faint fantastic fire-light

Served but to reveal the gloom?

Did you never feel the clammy

Terror, starting from each pore,

At a shocking

Sort of knocking

On your chamber door?

Did you never fancy something

Horrid, underneath the bed?

Or a ghastly skeletonian,

In the garret overhead?

Or a sudden life-like movement,

Of theVandyke, grim and tall?

Or that ruddy

Mark, a bloody

Stain upon the wall?

Did you never see a fearful

Figure, by the rushlight low,

Crouching, creeping,crawlingnearer—

Putting out its lingers—SO.

Whilst its lurid eyes glared on you

From the darkness where it sat—

And youcouldnot,

Or youwouldnot,

See it was the cat?

0134m

9135

IR Toby was a portly party;

Sir Toby took his turtle

hearty;

Sir Toby lived to dine:

Chateau d'Iquenwas his fort;

Bacchus would have backt his

port;

He was an Alderman in short

Of the very first water—and wine.

An Alderman of the first degree,

But neither wife nor son had he;

He had a daughter fair:

And often said her father, "Cis,

"You shall be dubb'd 'my Lady,' Miss,

"When I am dubb'd Lord Mayor.

"The day I don the gown and chain,

"In Hymen's modern Fetter-Lane

"You wed Sir Gobble Grist;

"And whilst with pomp and pageant high

"I scrape, and stut, and star it by

"St. George's in the East, you'll try

"St. George's in the West."

Oh vision of paternal pride!

Oh blessed Groom to such a Bride!

Oh happy Lady Cis!

Yet sparks won't always strike the match,

And she may chance to miss her 'catch,'

Or he may catch—amiss!

Such things do happen, here and there,

When Knights are old, and Nymphs are fair,

And who can say they don't?

When Worldly takes the gilded pill,

And Dives stands and says "I will,"

And Beauty says "I WONT!"

Sweet Beauty! Sweeter thus by far—

Young Goddess of the silver star,

Divinity capricious!—

Who would not barter wealth and wig,

And pomp and pride andotium dig,

For Youth—when 'plums' weren't worth a fig

And Venus smiled propitious?

Alas! that beaus will lose their spring,

And wayward belles refuse to 'ring,'

Unstruck by Cupid's dart!

Alas that—must the truth be told—

Yet oft'ner has the archer sold

The 'white and red,' to touch the 'gold,'

And Diamonds trump'd the Heart!

That luckless heart! too soon misplaced!—

Why is it that parental taste

On sagest calculation based

So rarely pleases Miss?

Let those who can, the riddle read;

For me, I've no idea indeed,

No more, perhaps, had Cis.

It might have been she found Sir G.

Less tender than a swain should be,—

Young—sprightly—witty—gay?—

It might have been she thought his hat

Or head too round or square or flat

Or empty—who can say?

What Bard shall dare? Perhaps his nose?—

A shade too pink, or pale, or rose?—

His cut of beard, wig, whisker, hose?—

A wrinkle?—here—or there?—

Perhaps thepreux chevalier'schance,

Hung on a word or on a glance,

Or on a single hair!

I know not! But the Parson waited,

The Groomsmen swore, the Bridegroom rated,

Till two o'clock or near;—

Then home again in rage and wrath,

Whilst pretty Cis—— was rattling North

With Jones the Volunteer!


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