You know I am a careless sort of fellowOn whom no living being spends a wink,So stand aside and let me have my bellow,You surely will not grudge me pen and ink!I've little doubt that if you stop to thinkYou'll recollect I've met you once before,I'm not the humbug who would wish to shrinkFrom friends of old, and so let's have your paw;Of course 'twere better we were friendly to be sure.
You know I am a careless sort of fellowOn whom no living being spends a wink,So stand aside and let me have my bellow,You surely will not grudge me pen and ink!I've little doubt that if you stop to thinkYou'll recollect I've met you once before,I'm not the humbug who would wish to shrinkFrom friends of old, and so let's have your paw;Of course 'twere better we were friendly to be sure.
III.
You know my failing and you will forgive it,Or “lump it” p'raps (to use a common phrase),Yet, as with most objections, you'll outlive itBefore the lapse of very many days;The fact is this, I never look for praiseAnd never want it, for I quite intendTo abandon rhyming and amend my ways,And utilise the moments that I spendIn such-like nonsense, towards a more befitting end.
You know my failing and you will forgive it,Or “lump it” p'raps (to use a common phrase),Yet, as with most objections, you'll outlive itBefore the lapse of very many days;The fact is this, I never look for praiseAnd never want it, for I quite intendTo abandon rhyming and amend my ways,And utilise the moments that I spendIn such-like nonsense, towards a more befitting end.
IV.
I have my likes, great likes, great dislikes too,'Twere well did I just one or two rehearse;I hate to see a fool his ways renew,I hate to see a youngster scribbling verse;And now, my friends, just think, what can be worseThan wasting time when we've so little of it?But waywardness will surely prove a curse,They tell me that I ought to be above it,That is to say, my kinsfolk and belovëd.
I have my likes, great likes, great dislikes too,'Twere well did I just one or two rehearse;I hate to see a fool his ways renew,I hate to see a youngster scribbling verse;And now, my friends, just think, what can be worseThan wasting time when we've so little of it?But waywardness will surely prove a curse,They tell me that I ought to be above it,That is to say, my kinsfolk and belovëd.
V.
But something strange impels me to the task,And here am I complaining while I writeOf human nature. Of myself I ask—Now am I doing wrong or doing right?'Tis hard indeed (I find it so) to fight(However perseveringly I try,And more particularly so to-night)Against this most uncouth propensity:Most likely tho' I shall grow wiser by and bye.
But something strange impels me to the task,And here am I complaining while I writeOf human nature. Of myself I ask—Now am I doing wrong or doing right?'Tis hard indeed (I find it so) to fight(However perseveringly I try,And more particularly so to-night)Against this most uncouth propensity:Most likely tho' I shall grow wiser by and bye.
VI.
But I'll proceed—I never see the useOf giving up a task when once begun,Besides it's nonsense urging an excuse,Just let me end my tale and I am done.Why, there's the breakfast bell, and, ten to one,Those girls are fast asleep, and what d'ye bet?And Julia's just been waking them, what fun!Ah, very well, you've lost, and don't forgetThat you are now, let's see, a florin in my debt.
But I'll proceed—I never see the useOf giving up a task when once begun,Besides it's nonsense urging an excuse,Just let me end my tale and I am done.Why, there's the breakfast bell, and, ten to one,Those girls are fast asleep, and what d'ye bet?And Julia's just been waking them, what fun!Ah, very well, you've lost, and don't forgetThat you are now, let's see, a florin in my debt.
VII.
The girls were late indeed and no mistake;Unutterably tired I should say,But Julia said they all were wide awake,And so 'twas useless making more delay.Mamma proceeded in her usual wayTo order in the breakfast then and there,Concluding 'twas the excitement yesterday,For waiting long was more than she could bear;So after having kissed papa she took her chair.
The girls were late indeed and no mistake;Unutterably tired I should say,But Julia said they all were wide awake,And so 'twas useless making more delay.Mamma proceeded in her usual wayTo order in the breakfast then and there,Concluding 'twas the excitement yesterday,For waiting long was more than she could bear;So after having kissed papa she took her chair.
VIII.
Papa consulted the barometerTo gain some knowledge of the coming weather,Then stared and took out his chronometer,Remarking it was funny altogether;He rang the bell in order to know whetherHis daughters really had begun to dress,And Julia, quite as light as any feather,Swept in and pertly answered, “Yes, Sir, yes,”Much to his satisfaction, doubtless, you may guess.
Papa consulted the barometerTo gain some knowledge of the coming weather,Then stared and took out his chronometer,Remarking it was funny altogether;He rang the bell in order to know whetherHis daughters really had begun to dress,And Julia, quite as light as any feather,Swept in and pertly answered, “Yes, Sir, yes,”Much to his satisfaction, doubtless, you may guess.
IX.
They all came down to find the breakfast cold,And there was then and there a great “to-do,”Mamma felt very much disposed to scold,And answered their excuses with “pooh-pooh:”I think 'twas rather too bad tho', don't you,Since they had done the very best they couldTo entertain their visitors all through?But there! she only scolded for their good,And 'twas not well for them o'er such-like things to brood.
They all came down to find the breakfast cold,And there was then and there a great “to-do,”Mamma felt very much disposed to scold,And answered their excuses with “pooh-pooh:”I think 'twas rather too bad tho', don't you,Since they had done the very best they couldTo entertain their visitors all through?But there! she only scolded for their good,And 'twas not well for them o'er such-like things to brood.
X.
For several days they were not quite the thing,To judge from all appearances at least;Their youthful levity had taken wing,And all excursions for the present ceased;And momently their restlessness increased,The sketch was left unheeded: incompleteThe slippers they were knitting ere the feast,And faded garlands strewed the arbour seat,Now silent and neglected was that cool retreat.
For several days they were not quite the thing,To judge from all appearances at least;Their youthful levity had taken wing,And all excursions for the present ceased;And momently their restlessness increased,The sketch was left unheeded: incompleteThe slippers they were knitting ere the feast,And faded garlands strewed the arbour seat,Now silent and neglected was that cool retreat.
XI.
But still this feeling's always more or lessShortlived, I find it so, at any rate,Altho' not always easy to repress,We very soon reclaim our normal state:'Twas so in this case, happy to relate,For soon they all were lark-like as before,With all their usual buoyancy innate,Indeed they took to frolic more and more;They were the liveliest feminines one ever saw.
But still this feeling's always more or lessShortlived, I find it so, at any rate,Altho' not always easy to repress,We very soon reclaim our normal state:'Twas so in this case, happy to relate,For soon they all were lark-like as before,With all their usual buoyancy innate,Indeed they took to frolic more and more;They were the liveliest feminines one ever saw.
XII.
It somehow chanced one night they could not sleep,They did not even doze, but wakeful lay;Oblivion's mists their senses did not steep;Whatever was the cause I cannot say;So they commenced to chat the time away,Their rooms were quite convenient for it too,Then on to various topics did they stray,And long forgotten converse did renew:No doubt 'twas quite enjoyable, they thought so too.
It somehow chanced one night they could not sleep,They did not even doze, but wakeful lay;Oblivion's mists their senses did not steep;Whatever was the cause I cannot say;So they commenced to chat the time away,Their rooms were quite convenient for it too,Then on to various topics did they stray,And long forgotten converse did renew:No doubt 'twas quite enjoyable, they thought so too.
XIII.
At last, of course, they didn't wish to doze,Preferring to prolong the conversation;And still suggestions one by one aroseWhich only met with their disapprobation;And jokes were cracked in lively alternation:From sundry rappings “peal on peal afar”Occasioning surprise and consternationI'm half afraid that they awoke Mama,And, dozing sweetly too, most likely their papa.
At last, of course, they didn't wish to doze,Preferring to prolong the conversation;And still suggestions one by one aroseWhich only met with their disapprobation;And jokes were cracked in lively alternation:From sundry rappings “peal on peal afar”Occasioning surprise and consternationI'm half afraid that they awoke Mama,And, dozing sweetly too, most likely their papa.
XIV.
This was effectual to some extent,They brought their voices down to somewhat low.T' arouse the slumb'ring folks they never meant,Whom they'd disturbed so much a while ago;So they arranged at once that both should goTo Dora's bedroom if they wished to speak,And “trip it on the light fantastic toe,”But, oh dear, how those stupid boards did creakAs both of them their darling sister's room did seek!
This was effectual to some extent,They brought their voices down to somewhat low.T' arouse the slumb'ring folks they never meant,Whom they'd disturbed so much a while ago;So they arranged at once that both should goTo Dora's bedroom if they wished to speak,And “trip it on the light fantastic toe,”But, oh dear, how those stupid boards did creakAs both of them their darling sister's room did seek!
XV.
The lamp was lighted and the apparatusFor making coffee speedily prepared,The cups were steaming with anodor gratus,They thought not of the hour and little caredHow far advanced the night, and gaily faredOn Spanish rusks and coffee, whilst the cryOf cockerel answered cockerel, and they sharedThe bountiful repast delightedly,And chatted over several matters merrily.
The lamp was lighted and the apparatusFor making coffee speedily prepared,The cups were steaming with anodor gratus,They thought not of the hour and little caredHow far advanced the night, and gaily faredOn Spanish rusks and coffee, whilst the cryOf cockerel answered cockerel, and they sharedThe bountiful repast delightedly,And chatted over several matters merrily.
XVI.
Withrobe de chambreand slippers, each one seemedTo be exactly in her element,While from each dimpled cheek a beauty beamed,A rosy flush, of blossoms redolent;Moreover each one'sdeshabillehad lentA careless grace which numbers can't convey,As tho' fair Venus all her arts had spentIn rendering them beautiful as day,Or had transformed each fondling to a fairy-fay.
Withrobe de chambreand slippers, each one seemedTo be exactly in her element,While from each dimpled cheek a beauty beamed,A rosy flush, of blossoms redolent;Moreover each one'sdeshabillehad lentA careless grace which numbers can't convey,As tho' fair Venus all her arts had spentIn rendering them beautiful as day,Or had transformed each fondling to a fairy-fay.
XVII.
And there they sweetly loungedin statu quo,More beautiful than words can ever tell,In fact a tiny sprig of mistletoeI should have deemed quite indispensable,So greatly did their excellence excelAll evanescent beauty in man's eyes,The loveliest primrose in the greenest dell,The lithest form man e'er did idolize:Fairer than fleece-like cloudlets of the southern skies.
And there they sweetly loungedin statu quo,More beautiful than words can ever tell,In fact a tiny sprig of mistletoeI should have deemed quite indispensable,So greatly did their excellence excelAll evanescent beauty in man's eyes,The loveliest primrose in the greenest dell,The lithest form man e'er did idolize:Fairer than fleece-like cloudlets of the southern skies.
XVIII.
Now Flora oped the casement, for she soughtThe realm of silent Night. The breezes softSwept o'er her brow and cooled each burning thought,And calmly bore each tranquil prayer aloft;She sniffed the balmy air and lightly quaffedThe faint and mellow perfumes as they came,And gazed abstractedly, as she so oftHad done before. Who would not do the same,And fondly praise his Maker's most belovëd name?
Now Flora oped the casement, for she soughtThe realm of silent Night. The breezes softSwept o'er her brow and cooled each burning thought,And calmly bore each tranquil prayer aloft;She sniffed the balmy air and lightly quaffedThe faint and mellow perfumes as they came,And gazed abstractedly, as she so oftHad done before. Who would not do the same,And fondly praise his Maker's most belovëd name?
XIX.
Below, the pebbly rill, like the fond sighOf maiden's love, was whispering to the night,While on its breast the star-lit canopy,Reflected clear, the bosom did inviteTo share its holy peace, its still delight,And join the drowsy nocturnes that arose,Hushing all nature to a slumber light,And soothing down on pillows of reposeAll weary mortals' earthly turmoils, cares and woes.
Below, the pebbly rill, like the fond sighOf maiden's love, was whispering to the night,While on its breast the star-lit canopy,Reflected clear, the bosom did inviteTo share its holy peace, its still delight,And join the drowsy nocturnes that arose,Hushing all nature to a slumber light,And soothing down on pillows of reposeAll weary mortals' earthly turmoils, cares and woes.
XX.
And summer dews had steeped the verdant sod,The moon-rays shimmered o'er the spangled lea,And taught the soul the eloquence of God,Tinging the far horizon o'er the seaWith silver film and sheeny filigree,While o'er the gray expanse with trembling wingThe ling'ring zephyr hovered sleepily,And faintly breathed o'er every dormant thingIts soft, sad benediction. This did Flora sing:—Oh Night, beneath thy dark domainHow oft the human heart has bled!But here a holy peace doth reign,And now my soul is comforted.Sublimest Monarch, teach my breastTo speak the phantasy it feels,O take my heart to be thy guest,And stay thy sombre chariot-wheels!Thy course is bent thro' clouds—on themThy path thou takest o'er the sea,Ten myriad worlds thy diadem,Oh take me to abide with thee!Thy sceptre—'tis with points of lightBegemmed; thy retinues advance,And feeble Nature owns thy might,The splendour of thy countenance.The moon thy lamp, the flaming sunThy harbinger; take thou my soul,Now bounding forth thy race to run,To thy Imperial Capitol!O let my spirit wander o'erThy sable woods and feel their sighs,And float upon thy Stygian shore,And revel in its mysteries!O but to mingle with thy throng,Partaker in thy flight to be,A portion of that spirit-song,A spirit minister to thee!
And summer dews had steeped the verdant sod,The moon-rays shimmered o'er the spangled lea,And taught the soul the eloquence of God,Tinging the far horizon o'er the seaWith silver film and sheeny filigree,While o'er the gray expanse with trembling wingThe ling'ring zephyr hovered sleepily,And faintly breathed o'er every dormant thingIts soft, sad benediction. This did Flora sing:—
Oh Night, beneath thy dark domainHow oft the human heart has bled!But here a holy peace doth reign,And now my soul is comforted.Sublimest Monarch, teach my breastTo speak the phantasy it feels,O take my heart to be thy guest,And stay thy sombre chariot-wheels!Thy course is bent thro' clouds—on themThy path thou takest o'er the sea,Ten myriad worlds thy diadem,Oh take me to abide with thee!Thy sceptre—'tis with points of lightBegemmed; thy retinues advance,And feeble Nature owns thy might,The splendour of thy countenance.The moon thy lamp, the flaming sunThy harbinger; take thou my soul,Now bounding forth thy race to run,To thy Imperial Capitol!O let my spirit wander o'erThy sable woods and feel their sighs,And float upon thy Stygian shore,And revel in its mysteries!O but to mingle with thy throng,Partaker in thy flight to be,A portion of that spirit-song,A spirit minister to thee!
Oh Night, beneath thy dark domainHow oft the human heart has bled!But here a holy peace doth reign,And now my soul is comforted.
Sublimest Monarch, teach my breastTo speak the phantasy it feels,O take my heart to be thy guest,And stay thy sombre chariot-wheels!
Thy course is bent thro' clouds—on themThy path thou takest o'er the sea,Ten myriad worlds thy diadem,Oh take me to abide with thee!
Thy sceptre—'tis with points of lightBegemmed; thy retinues advance,And feeble Nature owns thy might,The splendour of thy countenance.
The moon thy lamp, the flaming sunThy harbinger; take thou my soul,Now bounding forth thy race to run,To thy Imperial Capitol!
O let my spirit wander o'erThy sable woods and feel their sighs,And float upon thy Stygian shore,And revel in its mysteries!
O but to mingle with thy throng,Partaker in thy flight to be,A portion of that spirit-song,A spirit minister to thee!
XXI.
They soon were rather weary and methinksTheir chirp-like chatter did grow somewhat less,Now one would rouse herself from forty winks,Another doze in sweet unconsciousness;Indeed it was high time, as you may guess,They should disperse—they wisely thought so too,Then kissed and smiled and each one did confessSuch pranks as these would never, never do;Of course they'd have to meet the scolding, that they knew.
They soon were rather weary and methinksTheir chirp-like chatter did grow somewhat less,Now one would rouse herself from forty winks,Another doze in sweet unconsciousness;Indeed it was high time, as you may guess,They should disperse—they wisely thought so too,Then kissed and smiled and each one did confessSuch pranks as these would never, never do;Of course they'd have to meet the scolding, that they knew.
XXII.
Their dreams were peopled with all forms and shapesThat nightmare with its horrors can conceive,Egyptian sphynxes down to Barb'ry apes:Entangled in all nets that dreams can weaveThey struggled to get liberty and leaveThe meshy maze, yet struggled all in vain,Such horribles you never could believeI wonder if they all transgressed againAs then; thus pleasure's always found preceding pain.
Their dreams were peopled with all forms and shapesThat nightmare with its horrors can conceive,Egyptian sphynxes down to Barb'ry apes:Entangled in all nets that dreams can weaveThey struggled to get liberty and leaveThe meshy maze, yet struggled all in vain,Such horribles you never could believeI wonder if they all transgressed againAs then; thus pleasure's always found preceding pain.
XXIII.
Rose, like the others, saw the wrong she didPersonified in dreams, while on her chest,In slow descent, an Eastern PyramidCame down to crush her flat, she did her best,Like dreaming people do when so distressed,To move from underneath the cruel thing,When up came Ju to know if she were dressedAnd if she heard the bell for breakfast ring,Surprised indeed so late to find her slumbering.
Rose, like the others, saw the wrong she didPersonified in dreams, while on her chest,In slow descent, an Eastern PyramidCame down to crush her flat, she did her best,Like dreaming people do when so distressed,To move from underneath the cruel thing,When up came Ju to know if she were dressedAnd if she heard the bell for breakfast ring,Surprised indeed so late to find her slumbering.
XXIV.
She heard it, yes, but with a dreaming ear,Just as the pile above her did descend;She heard the funeral knell, she saw the bier,Which was to seal her most unpleasant end;But fortunately then Mama did sendThe housemaid to inform the time of day,The Spinx etcetera did their ways amend,Politely bowed, took wing, and flew away;Rose wished them all good morning with no more delay.
She heard it, yes, but with a dreaming ear,Just as the pile above her did descend;She heard the funeral knell, she saw the bier,Which was to seal her most unpleasant end;But fortunately then Mama did sendThe housemaid to inform the time of day,The Spinx etcetera did their ways amend,Politely bowed, took wing, and flew away;Rose wished them all good morning with no more delay.
XXV.
The girls went down to breakfast with a lookWhich spoke guilt, shame and terror all in one,Each sigh was language and each glance a bookNarrating all the mischief they had done;And cowering conscience cautioned them to shunThe searching lectures of parental eyes,But still the dark ordeal had begin,For Mama swelled to a terrific size,And Pater looked around the room in mute surprise.
The girls went down to breakfast with a lookWhich spoke guilt, shame and terror all in one,Each sigh was language and each glance a bookNarrating all the mischief they had done;And cowering conscience cautioned them to shunThe searching lectures of parental eyes,But still the dark ordeal had begin,For Mama swelled to a terrific size,And Pater looked around the room in mute surprise.
XXVI.
Then glances were exchanged, and both declaredSuch freaks as these again must never be,Their Ma demanded how they even dared,Since they'd been naughty to the last degree,Ejaculating faintly “Goodness me!”With various interjections of alarm,Stamping with anger at the guilty three,But 'twas not long e'er she again was calm,And all her daughters knew of course she meant no harm.
Then glances were exchanged, and both declaredSuch freaks as these again must never be,Their Ma demanded how they even dared,Since they'd been naughty to the last degree,Ejaculating faintly “Goodness me!”With various interjections of alarm,Stamping with anger at the guilty three,But 'twas not long e'er she again was calm,And all her daughters knew of course she meant no harm.
XXVII.
But this unhappy circumstance was soon—Like such unpleasantnesses were—forgotten,All things were tolerably straight by noon,(For family disputes are hell-begotten);So they betook them to their knitting-cotton,And felt themselves forgiven, as they were,They said that lesson should be unforgotten,Such nonsense never should again occur,So they had asked their parents' pardon I infer.
But this unhappy circumstance was soon—Like such unpleasantnesses were—forgotten,All things were tolerably straight by noon,(For family disputes are hell-begotten);So they betook them to their knitting-cotton,And felt themselves forgiven, as they were,They said that lesson should be unforgotten,Such nonsense never should again occur,So they had asked their parents' pardon I infer.
XXVIII.
Days had not only sped but galloped on,As they expressed it, e'er they could “turn round;”Before they were aware, the month had gone,The first of August, too, had come they found,(A fact which seemed the household to astound)On which date, I imagine, they designedA short excursion, by the pleasant soundOf tossing waters wild and unconfined:In following this suggestion they were not behind.
Days had not only sped but galloped on,As they expressed it, e'er they could “turn round;”Before they were aware, the month had gone,The first of August, too, had come they found,(A fact which seemed the household to astound)On which date, I imagine, they designedA short excursion, by the pleasant soundOf tossing waters wild and unconfined:In following this suggestion they were not behind.
XXIX.
Itwasthe first of August, now I know,A day that's most unlucky I believe,As I, for one, have always found it so,Then ask Astrologers who can't deceive;For I myself was surely doomed to grieve,Selected by some most ill-omened star,'Twas then (but why, I really can't conceive)ThatIwas introduced tomyMama,From then she always wished me over at Malabar.
Itwasthe first of August, now I know,A day that's most unlucky I believe,As I, for one, have always found it so,Then ask Astrologers who can't deceive;For I myself was surely doomed to grieve,Selected by some most ill-omened star,'Twas then (but why, I really can't conceive)ThatIwas introduced tomyMama,From then she always wished me over at Malabar.
XXX.
I mean to say that I was born unlucky,My mother never danced me up and down,I never once was designated “ducky,”Nor rolled within the doubles of her gown,Nor dandled as when fondlings “go to town,”Nor kissed and snuggled when I went to bed,Or rather when conveyed there with a frown,A downright shaking and a smarting head;To me no coaxing sweet appeal was made when fed.
I mean to say that I was born unlucky,My mother never danced me up and down,I never once was designated “ducky,”Nor rolled within the doubles of her gown,Nor dandled as when fondlings “go to town,”Nor kissed and snuggled when I went to bed,Or rather when conveyed there with a frown,A downright shaking and a smarting head;To me no coaxing sweet appeal was made when fed.
XXXI.
I don't know if the Pythagorean theoryIs quite to be relied upon or spurned,I'm half afraid this must remain a queryAs far as my enquiries are concerned;For theories are by theories overturned,And what a wise man says a coon disputes,For my part I must leave it with the learned,And those who play the fool with such pursuits,I take the first that comes, or anyone which suits.
I don't know if the Pythagorean theoryIs quite to be relied upon or spurned,I'm half afraid this must remain a queryAs far as my enquiries are concerned;For theories are by theories overturned,And what a wise man says a coon disputes,For my part I must leave it with the learned,And those who play the fool with such pursuits,I take the first that comes, or anyone which suits.
XXXII.
But if that version of the matter's trueI must have suffered for my previous sin,Some former life of follies, what think you?Some other mischief I've been joining in;But what's the use of idle ponderingOn things so troublesome and as abstruse,It were prepost'rous even to begin,What was there that could possibly inducePythagoras to turn his pen to such a use?
But if that version of the matter's trueI must have suffered for my previous sin,Some former life of follies, what think you?Some other mischief I've been joining in;But what's the use of idle ponderingOn things so troublesome and as abstruse,It were prepost'rous even to begin,What was there that could possibly inducePythagoras to turn his pen to such a use?
XXXIII.
The thought of spiritual transmigrationIs somewhat pleasant, therefore let it be;It seems delightful to my contemplationBut what of that, it's all the same to me!In fact, to tell the truth, I cannot seeWherefore Pythagoras did puzzle o'erThis tiresome philosophy when heMust truly have considered it a bore,I think it so, and, doubtless, so do many more.
The thought of spiritual transmigrationIs somewhat pleasant, therefore let it be;It seems delightful to my contemplationBut what of that, it's all the same to me!In fact, to tell the truth, I cannot seeWherefore Pythagoras did puzzle o'erThis tiresome philosophy when heMust truly have considered it a bore,I think it so, and, doubtless, so do many more.
XXXIV.
“One fool makes many,” as the saying goes,And he was quite as bad as any Plato,There was some slight resemblance I suppose,As Alcibiades resembled Cato;But I must hurry on and not delay soOn themes unnecessary to my tale,I'm sure you will agree with me and say so,I'm prone to 'light on topics that are stale,As I have said before, I know that I am frail.
“One fool makes many,” as the saying goes,And he was quite as bad as any Plato,There was some slight resemblance I suppose,As Alcibiades resembled Cato;But I must hurry on and not delay soOn themes unnecessary to my tale,I'm sure you will agree with me and say so,I'm prone to 'light on topics that are stale,As I have said before, I know that I am frail.
XXXV.
Well laden with good things by way of luncheon,Our heroines were starting on their way,With ham and tongue, and wine an infant puncheon,With spirits buoyant, and a jolly day;The sun upon them shot his summer ray,Above, the pendent lark was on the wing,The fair ones, each and all, had lots to say,And absolutely laughed like anything;The very air with their blithe merriment did ring.
Well laden with good things by way of luncheon,Our heroines were starting on their way,With ham and tongue, and wine an infant puncheon,With spirits buoyant, and a jolly day;The sun upon them shot his summer ray,Above, the pendent lark was on the wing,The fair ones, each and all, had lots to say,And absolutely laughed like anything;The very air with their blithe merriment did ring.
XXXVI.
'Twas early yet, and, as they were proceeding,On some poor widow they'd arranged to call,To give her heart the comfort she was needing,Whose open bible was her hope, her all;And Dora in her basket bore a shawl,A gift from Ma to the disabled dame,Together with some stockings and a ballOf worsted. To the cottage gate they came,And, doubtless, reader, you have often done the same.
'Twas early yet, and, as they were proceeding,On some poor widow they'd arranged to call,To give her heart the comfort she was needing,Whose open bible was her hope, her all;And Dora in her basket bore a shawl,A gift from Ma to the disabled dame,Together with some stockings and a ballOf worsted. To the cottage gate they came,And, doubtless, reader, you have often done the same.
XXXVII.
They knocked, then pressed the latch and entered. ThereHer grandchild sat; oh, she was sweet to see!Her cheek was bright, and fairer than the fair,Each tress the sungleam shimmering o'er the sea;An open bible lay upon her knee,She had been reading from the volume oldIn meek and innocent simplicity,And tinging all things earthly with the goldThe calmer, holier radiance of that other fold.
They knocked, then pressed the latch and entered. ThereHer grandchild sat; oh, she was sweet to see!Her cheek was bright, and fairer than the fair,Each tress the sungleam shimmering o'er the sea;An open bible lay upon her knee,She had been reading from the volume oldIn meek and innocent simplicity,And tinging all things earthly with the goldThe calmer, holier radiance of that other fold.
XXXVIII.
“I will be with you even unto death.”“Come unto Me and I will give you rest.”“I, even I, am He that comforteth.”What words are these! how beautiful, how blest!And Granny, as she listened, fondly pressedHer darling's little hand, did she not bringSweet consolation to her agéd breastWhen th' sun of life was low—towards evening,And life's fast fleeting pleasures, all had taken wing?
“I will be with you even unto death.”“Come unto Me and I will give you rest.”“I, even I, am He that comforteth.”What words are these! how beautiful, how blest!And Granny, as she listened, fondly pressedHer darling's little hand, did she not bringSweet consolation to her agéd breastWhen th' sun of life was low—towards evening,And life's fast fleeting pleasures, all had taken wing?
XXXIX.
But dim were Granny's glasses with a tearWhile listening to that voice so soft, so low,Oh! what upon this weary earth so dear?Oh! what so cherished as that smile below?The depth of human fondness who can know?She dried her tears, imprinting a slow kissUpon her beauty's cheek, she loved her so,Oh! what more tender, more sublime than this?Beside that hearth there reigned such still, such sacred bliss.
But dim were Granny's glasses with a tearWhile listening to that voice so soft, so low,Oh! what upon this weary earth so dear?Oh! what so cherished as that smile below?The depth of human fondness who can know?She dried her tears, imprinting a slow kissUpon her beauty's cheek, she loved her so,Oh! what more tender, more sublime than this?Beside that hearth there reigned such still, such sacred bliss.
XL.
Our visitors had entered. Granny seemedRight down delighted that they should have come,For from her eyes a nameless pleasure beamed,Which seemed of all delights to be the sum;She tried to make them cosy interdum,And to their kind enquiries she replied,“I'm bonny in my way, I thank you, Mum,And how's yourselves and those at home beside?”Then to them several little matters did confide.
Our visitors had entered. Granny seemedRight down delighted that they should have come,For from her eyes a nameless pleasure beamed,Which seemed of all delights to be the sum;She tried to make them cosy interdum,And to their kind enquiries she replied,“I'm bonny in my way, I thank you, Mum,And how's yourselves and those at home beside?”Then to them several little matters did confide.
XLI.
The cot, consisting of two rooms, was thatched;Each room was on the ground. Above the doorClung vines and roses, and the wall was patched,And all an aspect of contentment bore,The prettiest little scene you ever saw,Within, above the mantel, hung the gunWhich there had hung for fifteen years or more,Memento of that dear departed one,Telling of how much service it before had done.
The cot, consisting of two rooms, was thatched;Each room was on the ground. Above the doorClung vines and roses, and the wall was patched,And all an aspect of contentment bore,The prettiest little scene you ever saw,Within, above the mantel, hung the gunWhich there had hung for fifteen years or more,Memento of that dear departed one,Telling of how much service it before had done.
XLII.
Within the corner stood the eight-day clockWhich had recounted time for years and years,And even then was going “tick-a-tock,”Tho' it had seen so many smiles and tears;There is a something which, I fancy, cheersIn the slow ditty which those songsters sing,Some sweet responsion which the bosom hears,Whose echo is so soft and comforting,Winding a stilly peace round each familiar thing.
Within the corner stood the eight-day clockWhich had recounted time for years and years,And even then was going “tick-a-tock,”Tho' it had seen so many smiles and tears;There is a something which, I fancy, cheersIn the slow ditty which those songsters sing,Some sweet responsion which the bosom hears,Whose echo is so soft and comforting,Winding a stilly peace round each familiar thing.
XLIII.
The bacon hung suspended from a beam,And ancient china made the parlour gay;The picture of a little mountain streamCalled Rose's admiration into play;And, basking in the sun's delightful ray,A favourite kitten purred with sleepy air,The polished flags were spotless as the day,And groups of flowering plants stood here and there,And industry was most apparent everywhere.
The bacon hung suspended from a beam,And ancient china made the parlour gay;The picture of a little mountain streamCalled Rose's admiration into play;And, basking in the sun's delightful ray,A favourite kitten purred with sleepy air,The polished flags were spotless as the day,And groups of flowering plants stood here and there,And industry was most apparent everywhere.
XLIV.
Our ladies three had had their little chat,Had likewise done the good they had to do,Moreover had admired and stroked the cat,And then they thought 'twas time that they withdrew;The widow was more thankful than they knew,And twenty times expressed her firm convictionThey were disguised archangels (what think you?)Then twenty times pronounced her benediction,Hoping they'd never live to sufferheraffliction.
Our ladies three had had their little chat,Had likewise done the good they had to do,Moreover had admired and stroked the cat,And then they thought 'twas time that they withdrew;The widow was more thankful than they knew,And twenty times expressed her firm convictionThey were disguised archangels (what think you?)Then twenty times pronounced her benediction,Hoping they'd never live to sufferheraffliction.
XLV.
Her little grandchild courtesied at the gate,Showed them the way and courtesied once again,They sauntered on at just their former rateAnd chattered in their usual lively strain;Passing along an elevated plainThey paused to look around them for the sceneDelighted them enormously and fainWould they have been to rest mid-way between,But forward gaily pressed o'er silent tracts of green.
Her little grandchild courtesied at the gate,Showed them the way and courtesied once again,They sauntered on at just their former rateAnd chattered in their usual lively strain;Passing along an elevated plainThey paused to look around them for the sceneDelighted them enormously and fainWould they have been to rest mid-way between,But forward gaily pressed o'er silent tracts of green.
XLVI.
The view was bounded on their right by hills,Those gentle hills that border on the sea,Ah! as I write a thought my bosom stills,That thought, Oh Berwick, is the thought of thee!How kind, how tranquil were thine hours to me,Those hours amongst thy silent valleys cast,O moments gone, come back and let me beEnfolded in the visions of the Past,While other hours and days and years are fleeting fast!
The view was bounded on their right by hills,Those gentle hills that border on the sea,Ah! as I write a thought my bosom stills,That thought, Oh Berwick, is the thought of thee!How kind, how tranquil were thine hours to me,Those hours amongst thy silent valleys cast,O moments gone, come back and let me beEnfolded in the visions of the Past,While other hours and days and years are fleeting fast!
XLVII.
Anon the summit of the cliff they gained,Above the vast expanse the eye is bent,Where Beauty's finger wanders unrestrainedWith its fantastical embellishment;The mind is riveted, the gaze is spentWhere lavish Nature pours her richest spoil,The tongue is voiceless with bewilderment,Far, far below the ocean's ceaseless toilMakes bosoms inly shudder and all eyes recoil.
Anon the summit of the cliff they gained,Above the vast expanse the eye is bent,Where Beauty's finger wanders unrestrainedWith its fantastical embellishment;The mind is riveted, the gaze is spentWhere lavish Nature pours her richest spoil,The tongue is voiceless with bewilderment,Far, far below the ocean's ceaseless toilMakes bosoms inly shudder and all eyes recoil.
XLVIII.
Our little thoughts are staggered at the scene,That splendour so unspeakably intense,And dazzled by its brilliancy of sheen,The senses reel with its magnificence;Below the surgy yeast was boiling, whenceRose on the summer air its restless roar,It smote the broken cliff's bold battlements,Unmoted like the warriors of yore,And plunged upon the moss-clad boulders of the shore.
Our little thoughts are staggered at the scene,That splendour so unspeakably intense,And dazzled by its brilliancy of sheen,The senses reel with its magnificence;Below the surgy yeast was boiling, whenceRose on the summer air its restless roar,It smote the broken cliff's bold battlements,Unmoted like the warriors of yore,And plunged upon the moss-clad boulders of the shore.
XLIX.
The feathery clouds moved slowly through the sky,The coast-line melted into tender blue,The storm-bleared headland stood defiantlyThe boldest feature of that boundless view;In contrast with its chalky front, the hueOf the green sea swept freely far and wide,And o'er the promontory's base there grew,As though its time-torn nakedness to hide,Some shaggy weeds that floated on the swelling tide.
The feathery clouds moved slowly through the sky,The coast-line melted into tender blue,The storm-bleared headland stood defiantlyThe boldest feature of that boundless view;In contrast with its chalky front, the hueOf the green sea swept freely far and wide,And o'er the promontory's base there grew,As though its time-torn nakedness to hide,Some shaggy weeds that floated on the swelling tide.
L.
It was the ebb. They could not yet descend;So Rose suggested that they should proceedIn the direction of the headland's end,There straightway squat them on the grass and readThe books they'd brought; to this they all agreed,Then hastened onward though the sun was hot,And there beneath their sunshades with much speedAnd very much more chatter did they squat;In those parts foliage umbrageous there was not.
It was the ebb. They could not yet descend;So Rose suggested that they should proceedIn the direction of the headland's end,There straightway squat them on the grass and readThe books they'd brought; to this they all agreed,Then hastened onward though the sun was hot,And there beneath their sunshades with much speedAnd very much more chatter did they squat;In those parts foliage umbrageous there was not.
LI.
They must have read an hour when they discoveredExactly simultaneously that theyWere really hungry, so they all uncoveredTheir baskets of refreshment for the day,And laughed to see the paper fly away;They must, I think, have quite enjoyed their fareSo close above the music of the bay,No doubt it was delightful to be thereFanned by the soothing breath of the ozonic air.
They must have read an hour when they discoveredExactly simultaneously that theyWere really hungry, so they all uncoveredTheir baskets of refreshment for the day,And laughed to see the paper fly away;They must, I think, have quite enjoyed their fareSo close above the music of the bay,No doubt it was delightful to be thereFanned by the soothing breath of the ozonic air.
LII.
They chatted, read, and dozed in alternation,And time had flitted as it always will,Flo recommended change of situation,Not pleased that they were tarrying there still;So all arose and forward urged untilThey saw afar some narrow steps and rude,Beginning some short distance up the hill,And which of course no sooner had they viewedThan thither they repaired as quickly as they could.
They chatted, read, and dozed in alternation,And time had flitted as it always will,Flo recommended change of situation,Not pleased that they were tarrying there still;So all arose and forward urged untilThey saw afar some narrow steps and rude,Beginning some short distance up the hill,And which of course no sooner had they viewedThan thither they repaired as quickly as they could.
LIII.
Descending, they discovered that the seaHad much subsided since they saw it last,Then down they hopped with more than usual gleeTo note the waters thus receding fast;Upon the narrow strip of sand were castWeeds, star-fish, and all sorts of shells around,And, as along the level stretch they passed,Most interesting articles they foundWhich lay all washed and wet upon the solid ground.
Descending, they discovered that the seaHad much subsided since they saw it last,Then down they hopped with more than usual gleeTo note the waters thus receding fast;Upon the narrow strip of sand were castWeeds, star-fish, and all sorts of shells around,And, as along the level stretch they passed,Most interesting articles they foundWhich lay all washed and wet upon the solid ground.
LIV.
They cut their names upon the cliff and wroteAll sorts of hieroglyphics on the sand,And rhymes that I'm unable now to quote;All found amusement there on every hand;They thought a life at sea was truly grandAs very many ladies often do,Perhaps it is when strolling on the strand,At least I find it passable, don't you?In fact, I think, much more so thanin transitu.
They cut their names upon the cliff and wroteAll sorts of hieroglyphics on the sand,And rhymes that I'm unable now to quote;All found amusement there on every hand;They thought a life at sea was truly grandAs very many ladies often do,Perhaps it is when strolling on the strand,At least I find it passable, don't you?In fact, I think, much more so thanin transitu.
LV.
They deemed it a misfortune they were girls;Rose wished she'd been a boy and gone abroad,Flo wished she'd been a sailor lad with curlsBy all the fair of Christendom adored;Then Dora too her present state deploredAnd also would have been a tar (becauseShe loved to listen when the waters roared)Or any blessed thing but what she was;All these ideas were most enjoyable of course.
They deemed it a misfortune they were girls;Rose wished she'd been a boy and gone abroad,Flo wished she'd been a sailor lad with curlsBy all the fair of Christendom adored;Then Dora too her present state deploredAnd also would have been a tar (becauseShe loved to listen when the waters roared)Or any blessed thing but what she was;All these ideas were most enjoyable of course.
LVI.
At some short distance was a vessel hurled,A dismal wreck, upon the rockbound shoal,Around its hulk th' encircling billows curled,Now thro' its splintered deck the wavelet stole,Then, issuing forth, it gurgled through a holeStaved by the tempest's fury in its side,Afar off did its shattered timbers roll,Its treasures all were scattered in the tide.The headland gained, the swaying wreck they soon espied.
At some short distance was a vessel hurled,A dismal wreck, upon the rockbound shoal,Around its hulk th' encircling billows curled,Now thro' its splintered deck the wavelet stole,Then, issuing forth, it gurgled through a holeStaved by the tempest's fury in its side,Afar off did its shattered timbers roll,Its treasures all were scattered in the tide.The headland gained, the swaying wreck they soon espied.
LVII.
Soon as the waves permitted them to goAcross the smooth white rocks, they to it went;The raging brine had torn off half the bow,Its starboard shivered and its cordage rent;The warring waters had their anger spentAnd flung its fragments to the cruel blast,Its iron bands were burst apart and bent,And all around in dire disorder cast;There, shattered, at some little distance, lay the mast.
Soon as the waves permitted them to goAcross the smooth white rocks, they to it went;The raging brine had torn off half the bow,Its starboard shivered and its cordage rent;The warring waters had their anger spentAnd flung its fragments to the cruel blast,Its iron bands were burst apart and bent,And all around in dire disorder cast;There, shattered, at some little distance, lay the mast.
LVIII.
When gazing pensively o'er ocean's realmIts wide destruction, its unspoken might,There is a something which doth overwhelm,As day is overshadowed by the night;This was, forsooth, an interesting sightTo them, yet no less dreadful, for the sceneWas one such as could never yield delight,And so delighted they could not have been,Before they never such a spectacle had seen.
When gazing pensively o'er ocean's realmIts wide destruction, its unspoken might,There is a something which doth overwhelm,As day is overshadowed by the night;This was, forsooth, an interesting sightTo them, yet no less dreadful, for the sceneWas one such as could never yield delight,And so delighted they could not have been,Before they never such a spectacle had seen.
LIX.
They picked up curious items, three or four,And placed them in their baskets to take home,The wreck and its surroundings did explore,Upon the slimy reefs, too, did they roam,While backward and still backward rolled the foam,While faster flew each hour, one after one,And they discovered evening had come,'Twas time they put an end to all their fun,And so to think of their return they had begun.
They picked up curious items, three or four,And placed them in their baskets to take home,The wreck and its surroundings did explore,Upon the slimy reefs, too, did they roam,While backward and still backward rolled the foam,While faster flew each hour, one after one,And they discovered evening had come,'Twas time they put an end to all their fun,And so to think of their return they had begun.
LX.