BOOKS PUBLISHED IN BLUE AND GOLD, BY TICKNOR, AND FIELDS. Longfellow's Poems. 2 vols. $ 2.00. Longfellow's Prose. 2 vols. $ 2.00. Whittled s Poems. 2 vols. $2.00. Leigh Hunt's Poems. 2 vols. $2.00. Tennyson's Poems. 2 vols. $2.00. Gerald Massey's Poems. $ i.oo. Lowell's Poems. 2 vols. $2.00. PercivaVs Poems. 2 vols. $2.00. MothenveWs Poems. $1.00. Owen Meredith's Poems. $ i.oo. Owen Merediths Lucile. $.1.00. Sydney Dobell 's Poems. $ I. oo. Bowring's Matins and Vespers. $ I.oo. Allinghairfs Poems. $ i.oo. Horace. Translated by Theodore Martin. $ i.oo Mrs. Jameson's Characteristics. of Women. $ i.oo. Mrs. Jameson' s Loves of the Poets. $1.00. Mrs. Jameson's Diary. $ i.oo. Mrs. Jameson's Sketches of Art. $ I.oo. Mrs. Jameson's Legends of the Madonna. $ i.oo. Mrs. Jameson's Italian Painters. $ i.oo. Mrs. Jameson's Studies and Stories. $ I.oo. Saxe's Poems. $ i.oo. dough's Poems. $ I . oo. Holmes' s Poems. $ i.oo. Adelaide Procter's Poems. $ i.oo. POEMS JOHN G. S AXE, COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME. TWENTY-SEVENTH EDITION. BOSTON: TICK NOR AND FIELDS. 1864. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1861, by JOHN G. SAXE, in the Clrk's Office of the District Court of the Di.-trict of Massachusetts. University Press, Cambridge : Stereotyped and Printed by Welch, Bigelow, & Co. CONTENTS. PROGRESS, AND OTHER POEMS. FAOB Dedication 3 Progress: A Satire 5 The Proud Miss MacBride 22 The Briefless Barrister 35 Rhyme of the Rail 38 The Rape of the Lock 41 A Rhymed Epistle 54 The Dog Days 68 On a Recent Classic Controversy 60 The Ghost-Player 61 On an El-Read Lawyer 63 A Benedict's Appeal to a Bachelor 64 Boys 68 Woman's Will 69 The Cold- Water Man 70 On an Ugly Person sitting for a Daguerrotype ... 73 A College Reminiscence 74 Family Quarrels 77 Sonnet to a Clam 78 A Reasonable Petition 79 Guneopathy 8 f A Philosophical Query fc2 IV CONTENTS. Comic Miseries 88 The Old Chnpel-Bell 86 The Lady Ann 92 Girlhood 96 Bereavement 98 My Boyhood 99 The Times 101 Carmen Lastum 119 The Devil of Names 125 Phaethon 130 Pyramus and Thisbe 134 Polyphemus and Ulysses 139 Orpheus and Eurydice 143 THE MONEY-KING, AND OTHER POEMS. Dedication 151 Preface 153 The Money-Kins 155 I 'm Growing Old 17ft SpesestVates ,.. 172 The Way of the World ....'"." 173 The Head and the Heart 175 My Castle in Spain 176 A Reflective Retrospect 178 1 Do, yon think he is Married?' 182 Early Rising 184 Ideal and Real 186 How the Money goes 1S9 Tale of a Dog 191 Little Jerry, the Miller 195 How Cyrus laid the Cable 198 The Jolly Mariner 201 Ye Tailyor-Man 205 Town and Country: an Eclogue 207 My Familiar 211 CONTENTS. V How the Lawyers got a Patron Saint 214 The King and the Cottager 216 Love and Lucre . 223 Death and Cupid 226 The Family Alan .-....'. 228 Ne Crede Colon 230 Clara to Cloe 232 Cloe to Clara 235 Wishing 238 Richard of Gloster 240 Ho-Ho of the Golden Belt 246 Tom Brown's Day in Gotham ........ 252 Post-Prandial Verses 261 Lines on my Thirty-ninth Birthday 264 Sonnet to 265 The Cockney 266 Love's Calendar 269 Augusta 270 Ye Pedagogue 271 The Lawyer's Valentine 274 Anacreontic 276 The Choice of King Midas 277 Where there 's a Will there 's a Way 281 Saint Jonathan 283 Song of Saratoga 286 The Portrait 288 Epigrams 289 The Press 292 NOTE PROGRESS, OTHER POEMS. TO HON. GEOKGE P. MARSH, UNITED STATES MINISTER RESIDENT AT CONSTANTINOPLE. DEAR Sra,: I dedicate this little Volume to you, not in your capacity as the honored Representative of your country at a Foreign Court, nor yet in your higher character, as one of the foremost scholars of the age ; but rather, as is more befitting, in token of my esteem for your private virtues, and in grateful acknowledgment of your personal friendship. I hesitate less to avail myself of your kind permission to use your name in this place, since it was greatly owing to your flattering judgment of my first elaborate essay at verse writing, that other pieces were subsequently undertaken, and that these are now here collected. In christening the book, I have chosen, for several reasons, to conform to the customary nomenclature which allows every kind of literature to be ' Po- etry,' that is not written in the fashion of prose ; yet I have no quarrel with that nicer rule of modern criticism which assigns to all metrical compositions of a mainly facetious or satirical char- acter, a place rather on the border than fairly within the domain of legitimate poesy. If I have excluded several trifles which some of my friends would like to have seen with the rest, it was be- cause I could not afford to make the volume larger at any risk of making it worse. Should the verses which I have ventured to retain, receive, in their present form, the favor which has been accorded to most of the poems separately, I am very sure no on* will be more gratified than yourself, except it be Your sincere friend, and humble servant, JOHN GODFREY SAXE. BURLINGTON, VERMONT, 184rf. PROGRESS: A SATIRE. IN this, our happy and * progressive ' age, When all alike ambitious cares engage ; When beardless boys to sudden sages grow, And ' Miss ' her nurse abandons for a beau ; When for their dogmas Non-Resistants tight, When dunces lecture, and when dandies write When, martial honors to the children thrown, Each five-foot minor is a ' Major ' grown ; When matrons, seized with oratoric pangs, Give happy birth to masculine harangues, And spinsters, trembling for the nation's fate, Neglect their stockings to preserve the State ; When critic-wits their brazen lustre shed On golden authors whom they never read, With parrot praise of ' Roman grandeur ' speak, And in bad English eulogize the Greek ; When facts like these no reprehension bring, May not, uncensured, an Attorney sing ? In sooth he may ; and though ' unborn ' to climb Parnassus' heights, and ' build the lofty rhyme,' Though FLACCUS fret, and warningly advise That ' middling verses gods and men despise/ Yet will he sing, to Yankee license true, In spite of Horace and ' Minerva ' too ! My theme is PROGRESS, never-tiring theme Of prosing dulness, and poetic dream ; Beloved of Optimists, who still protest Whatever happens happens for the best ; Who prate of ' evil ' as a thing unknown, A fancied color, or a seeming tone, A vague chimera cherished by the dull, The empty product of an emptier skull. Expert logicians they ! to show at will, By ill philosophy, that naught is ill ! Should some sly rogue, the city's constant curse, Deplete your pocket and relieve your purse, Or if, approaching with ill-omened tread, Some bolder burglar break, your house and head, Hold, friend, thy rage ! nay, let the rascal flee ; No evil has been done the world, or thee : Here comes Philosophy will make it plain Thy seeming loss is universal gain ! * Thy heap of gold was clearly grown too great, 'T were best the poor should share thy large estate While misers gather, that the knaves should steal, Is most conducive to the general weal ; Thus thieves the wrongs of avarice efface, And stand the friends and stewards of the race ; Thus every moral ill but serves, in fact, Some other equal ill to counteract.' A SATIRE. 7 Sublime Philosophy ! benignant light ! Which sees in every pair of wrongs, a right ; Which finds no evil or in sin or pain, And proves that decalogues are writ in vain ! Hail, mighty PROGRESS ! loftiest we find Thy stalking strides in science of the mind. What boots it now that LOCKE was learned and wise ? What boots it now that men have ears and eyes ? * Pure Reason ' in their stead now hears and sees, And walks apart in stately scorn of these ; Laughs at experience,' spurns ' induction ' hence, Scouting the senses,' and transcending sense. No more shall flippant ignorance inquire, * If German breasts may feel poetic fire,' Nor German dulness write ten folios full, To show, for once, that Dutchmen are not dull. 1 For here Philosophy, acute, refined, Sings all the marvels of the human mind In strains so passing k dainty sweet ' to hear, That e'en the nursery turns a ravished ear 1 Here Wit and Fancy in scholastic bowers Twine beauteous wreaths of metaphysic flowers; Here 'Speculation pours her dazzling light, Here grand Invention wings a daring flight, And soars ambitious to the lofty moon, Whence, haply, freighted with some precious boon, Some old ' Philosophy ' in fog incased, Or new * Religion ' for the changing taste, She straight descends to Learning's blest abodes, Just simultaneous with the Paris modes 1 8 PROGRESS t Here PLATO'S dogmas eloquently speak, Not as of yore, in grand and graceful Greek, But, (quite beyond the dreaming sage's hope Of future glory in his fancy's scope.) Translated down, as by some wizard touch, Find ' immortality * in good high Dutch ! Happy the youth, in this our golden age, Condemned no more to con the prosy page Of LOCKE and BACON, antiquated fools, Now justly banished from our moral schools. By easier modes philosophy is taught, Than through the medium of laborious thought. Imagination kindly serves instead, And saves the pupil many an aching head. Room for the sages ! hither comes a throng Of blooming Platos trippingly along. In dress how fitted to beguile the fair ! What intellectual, stately heads of hair ! Hark to the Oracle ! to Wisdom's tone Breathed in a fragrant zephyr of Cologne. That boy in gloves, the leader of the van, Talks of the ' outer ' and the ' inner man/ And knits his girlish brow in stout resolve Some mountain-sized ' idea ' to ' evolve.' Delusive toil! thus in their infant days, When children mimic manly deeds in plays, Long will they sit, and eager ' bob for whale ' Within the ocean of a water-pail 1 The next, whose looks unluckily reveal The ears portentous that his locks conceal, A SATIRE. 9 Prates of the 'orbs' with such a knowing frown, You deem he puffs some lithographic town In Western wilds, where yet unbroken ranks Of thrifty beavers build unchartered 'banks,' And prowling panthers occupy the lots Adorned with churches on the paper plots ! But ah ! what suff 'ring harp is this we hear ? What jarring sounds invade the wounded ear ? Who o'er the lyre a hand spasmodic flings, And grinds harsh discord from the tortured strings V The Sacred Muses, at the sound dismayed, Retreat disordered to their native shade, And PHCEBUS hastens to his high abode, And ORPHEUS frowns to hear an 4 Orphic ode ' 1 Talk not, ye jockeys, of the wondrous speed That marks your Northern or your Southern steed See Progress fly o'er Education's course ! Not far-famed Derby owns a fleeter horse ! On rare Improvement's ' short and easy ' road, How swift her flight to Learning's blest abode ! In other times 't was many years ago The scholar's course was toilsome, rough, and slow, The fair Humanities were sought in tears, And came, the trophy of laborious years. Now Learning's shrine each idle youth may seek, And, spending there a shilling and a week, (At lightest cost of study, cash, and lungs,) Come back, like Rumor, with a hundred tongues ! What boots such progress, when the golden load From heedless haste is lost upon the road ? 1* 10 When each great science, to the student'? pace, Stands like the wicket in a hurdle race, Which to o'erleap is all the courser's mind, And all his glory that 't is left behind ! Nor less, O Progress, are thy newest rules Enforced and honored in the ' Ladies' Schools;' Where Education, in its nobler sense, Gives place to Learning's shallowest pretence ; Where hapless maids, in spite of wish or taste, On vain ' accomplishments ' their moments waste ; By cruel parents here condemned to wrench Their tender throats in mispronouncing French ; Here doomed to force, by unrelenting knocks, Reluctant music from a tortured box ; Here taught, in inky shades and rigid lines, To perpetrate equivocal ' designs ; ' ' Drawings ' that prove their title plainly true, By showing nature ' drawn,' arid * quartered ' too ! Jn ancient times, I 've heard my grandam tell, Young maids were taught to read, and write, and spell ; (Neglected arts ! once learned by rigid rules, As prime essentials in the ' common schools ; ') Well taught beside in many a useful art To mend the manners and improve the heart ; Nor yet unskilled to turn the busy wheel, To ply the shuttle, and to twirl the reel, Could thrifty tasks with cheerful grace pursue, Themselves ' accomplished,' and their duties too. Of tongues, each maiden had but one, 't is said, (Enough, 't was thought, to serve a lady's head,) A SATIRE. 11 But that was ENGLISH, great and glorious tongue That CHATHAM spoke, and MILTON, SHAKSPEARE, sung! Let thoughts too idle to be fitly dressed In sturdy Saxon, be in French expressed ; Let lovers breathe Italian, like, in sooth, Its singers, soft, emasculate, and smooth ; But for a tongue whose ample powers embrace Beauty and force, sublimity and grace, Ornate or plain, harmonious, yet strong, And formed alike for eloquence and song, Give me the ENGLISH, aptest tongue to paint A sage or dunce, a villain or a saint, To spur the slothful, counsel the distressed, To lash the oppressor, and to soothe the oppressed, To lend fantastic Humor freest scope To marshal all his laughter-moving troop, Give Pathos power, and Fancy lightest wings, And Wit his merriest whims and keenest stings ! . The march of Progress let the Muse explore In pseudo-science and empiric lore. O sacred Science 1 how art thou profaned, When shallow quacks and vagrants, unrestrained, Flaunt in thy robes, and vagabonds are known To brawl thy name, who never wrote their own ; When crazy theorists their addled schemes (Unseemly product of dyspeptic dreams) Impute to thee ! as courtesans of yore Their spurious bantlings left at Mars's door ; When each projector of a patent pill, Or happy founder of a coffee-mill, 12 Invokes thine aid to celebrate his wares, And crown with gold his philanthropic cares ; Thus Islam's hawkers piously proclaim Their figs and pippins in the Prophet's name ! Some sage Physician, studious to advance The art of healing, and its praise enhance, By observation ' scientific ' finds (What else were hidden from inferior minds) That WATER 's useful in a thousand ways, To cherish health, and lengthen out our days : A mighty solvent in its simple scope, And quite ' specific ' with Castilian soap ! The doctor's labors let the thoughtless scorn, See ! a new ' science ' to the world is born ; 4 Disease is dirt ! all pain the patient feels Is but the soiling of the vital wheels ; To wash away all particles impure, And cleanse the system, plainly, is to cure ! ' Thus shouts the doctor, eloquent, and proud To teach his ' science ' to the gaping crowd ; Like * Father Mathew,' eager to allure Afflicted mortals to his * water-cure ' 1 'T is thus that modern sciences ' are made, By bold assumption, puffing, and parade. Take three stale ' truths ; ' a dozen facts/ sumed ; Two known * effects,' and fifty more presumed ; 4 Affinities ' a score, to sense unknown, And, just as ' Zuctw, non lucendo ' shown, A SATIRE. 13 Add but a name of pompous Anglo- Greek, And only not impossible to speak, The work is done ; a ' science ' stands confest, And countless welcomes greet the queenly guest In closest girdle, O reluctant Muse, In scantiest skirts, and lightest-stepping shoes, 8 Prepare to follow FASHION'S gay advance, And thread the mazes of her motley dance ; And, marking well each momentary hue, And transient form, that meets the wondering view, In kindred colors, gentle Muse, essay Her Protean phases fitly to portray. To-day, she slowly drags a cumbrous trail, And ' Ton ' rejoices in its length of tail ; To-morrow, changing her capricious sport, She trims her flounces just as much too short ; To-day, right jauntily, a hat she wears That scarce affords a shelter to her ears ; To-morrow, haply, searching long in vain, You spy her features down a Leghorn lane ; To-day, she glides along with queenly grace, To-morrow ambles in a mincing pace. To-day, erect, she loves a martial air, And envious train-bands emulate the fair ; To-morrow, changing as her whim may serve, ' She stoops to conquer' in a ' Grecian curve.' 3 To-day, with careful negligence arrayed In scanty folds, of woven zephyrs made, She moves like Dian in her woody bowers, Or Flora floating o'er a bed of flowers ; 14 PROGRESS : To-morrow, laden with a motley freight, Of startling bulk and formidable weight, She waddles forth, ambitious to amaze The vulgar crowd, who giggle as they gaze ! Despotic Fashion ! potent is her sway, Whom half the world full loyally obey, Kings bow submissive to her stern decrees, And proud Republics bend their necks and knees ; Where'er we turn the attentive eye, is seen The worshipped presence of the modish queen ; In Dress, Philosophy, Religion, Art, Whate'er employs the head, or hand, or heart. Is some fine lady quite o'ercome with woes, From an unyielding pimple on her nose, Some unaccustomed ' buzzing in her ears,' Or other marvel to alarm her fears ? Fashion, with skill and judgment ever nice, At once advises ' medical advice ; ' Then names her doctor, who, arrived in haste, Proceeds accordant with the laws of taste. If real ills afflict the modish dame, Her blind idolatry is still the same ; Less grievous far, she deems it, to endure Genteel malpractice, than a vulgar cure. If, spite of gilded pills and golden fees, Her dear dyspepsia grows a dire disease, And Docter DAPPER proves a shallow rogue, The world must own that both were much in vogue What impious mockery, when, with soulless art, Fashion, intrusive, seeks to rule the heart ; A SATIRE, 15 Directs how grief may tastefully be borne ; Instructs Bereavement just how long to mourn ; Shows Sorrow how by nice degrees to fade, And marks its measure in a ribbon's shade ! More impious still, when, through her wanton laws, She desecrates Religion's sacred cause ; Shows how ' the narrow road ' is easiest trod, And how, genteelest, worms may worship God ; How sacred rites may bear a worldly grace, And self-abasement wear a haughty face ; How sinners, long in Folly's mazes whirled, With pomp and splendor may * renounce the world ; How * with all saints hereafter to appear,' Yet quite escape the vulgar portion here 1 Imperial Fashion ! her impartial care Things most momentous, and most trivial, share. Now crushing conscience (her invet'rate foe), And now a waist, and now, perchance, a toe ; At once for pistols and ' the Polka ' votes, And shapes alike our characters and coats ; The gravest question which the world divides, And lightest riddle, in a breath decides : ' If wrong may not, by circumstance, be right,' * If black cravats be more genteel than white,' 4 If by her " bishop," or her " grace," alone, A genuine lady, or a church, is known ; ' Problems like these she solves with graceful air, At once a casuist and a connoisseur 1 Does some sleek knave, whom magic money-bags Have raised above his fellow-knaves in rags, 16 PROGRKSS: Some willing minion of unblushing Vice, Who boasts that ' Virtue ever has her price,' Does he, unpitying, blast thy sister's fame, Or doom thy daughter to undying shame, To bow her head beneath the eye of scorn, And droop and wither in her maiden morn ? Fashion ' regrets,' declares ' 't was very wrong,' And, quite dejected, hums an opera song ! Impartial friend ! your cause to her appealed, Yourself and foe she summons to the field, "Where Honor carefully the case observes, And nicely weighs it in a scale of nerves ! Despotic rite ! whose fierce vindictive reign Boasts, unrebuked, its countless victims slain, While Christian rulers, recreant, support The pagan honors of thy bloody court, And ' Freedom's champions ' spurn their hallowed trust, Kneel at thy nod, and basely iitk the dust ! Degraded Congress ! once the honored scene Of patriot deeds ; where men of solemn mien, In virtue strong, in understanding clear, Earnest, though courteous, and, though smooth, sin- cere, To gravest counsels lent the teeming hours, And gave their country all their mighty powers. But times are changed ; a rude, degenerate race Usurp the seats, and shame the sacred place. Here plotting demagogues, with zeal defend The * people's rights,' to gain some private end ; A SATIRE. 17 Here Southern youths, on Folly's surges tost, Their fathers' wisdom eloquently boast ; (So dowerless spinsters proudly number o'er The costly jewels that their grandams wore.) Here would-be TULLYS pompously parade Their tumid tropes for simple ' Buncombe ' made, 4 Full on the chair the chilling torrent shower, And work their word-pumps through the allotted hour. Deluded * Buncombe ! ' while, with honest praise, She notes each grand and patriotic phrase, And, much rejoicing in her hopeful son, Deems all her own the laurels he has won, She little dreams how brother members fled, And left the house as vacant as his head ! Here rural CHATHAMS, eager to attest The ' growing greatness of the mighty West,' To make the plainest proposition clear, Crack PRISCIAN'S head, and Mr. SPEAKER'S ear; Then, closing up in one terrific shout, Pour all their ' wild-cats ' furiously out ! Here lawless boors with ruffian bullies vie, Who last shall give the rude, insulting ' lie/ While ' Order ! order ! ' loud the chairman calls, And echoing ' Order I ' every member bawls ; Till rising high in rancorous debate, And higher still in fierce envenomed hate, 5 Retorted blows the scene of riot crown, And big LYCURGUS knocks the lesser down 1 B 18 Ye honest dames in frequent proverbs named, For finest fish and foulest English famed, Whose matchless tongues, 'tis said, were never heard To speak a flattering or a feeble word, Here all your choice invective ye might urge Our lawless Solons fittingly to scourge ; Here, in congenial company, might rail Till, quite worn out, your creaking voices fail, Unless, indeed, for once compelled to yield In wordy strife, ye vanquished quit the field ! Hail, Social Progress ! each new moon is rife With some new theory of social life, Some matchless scheme ingeniously designed From half their miseries to free mankind ; On human wrongs triumphant war to wage, And bring anew the glorious golden age. * Association ' is the magic word From many a social ' priest afid prophet' heard, 1 Attractive Labor ' is the angel given, To render earth a sublunary Heaven ! * Attractive Labor ! ' ring the changes round, And labor grows attractive in the sound ; And many a youthful mind, where haply lurk Unwelcomed fancies at the name of ' work,' Sees pleasant pastime in its longing view Of ' toil made easy ' and ' attractive * too, And, fancy-rapt, with joyful ardor, turns Delightful grindstones and seductive churns ! 4 Men are not bad,' these social sages preach, 4 Men are not what their actions seem to teach ; A SATIRE. 19 No moral ill is natural or fixed, Men only err by being badly mixed ! ' To them the world a huge plum-pudding seems, Made up of richest viands, fruits, and creams, Which of all choice ingredients partook, And then was ruined by a blundering cook ! Inventive France ! what wonder-working schemes Astound the world whene'er a Frenchman dreams What fine-spun theories, ingenious, new, Sublime, stupendous, everything but true ! One little favor, O ' Imperial France ' I Still teach the world to cook, to dress, to dance ; Let, if thou wilt, thy boots and barbers roam, But keep thy morals and thy creeds at home ! O might the Muse prolong her flowing rhyme, (Too closely cramped by unrelenting Time, Whose dreadful scythe swings heedlessly along, And, missing speeches, clips the thread of song,) How would she strive, in fitting verse, to sing The wondrous Progress of the Printing King ! Bibles and Novels, Treatises and Songs, Lectures on ' Rights,' and Strictures upon Wrongs; Verse in all metres, Travels in all climes, Rhymes without reason, Sonnets without rhymes; 4 Translations from the French,' so vilely done, The wheat escaping leaves the chaff alone ; Memoirs, where dunces sturdily essay To cheat Oblivion of her certain prey ; Critiques, where pedants vauntingly expose Unlicensed' verses, in unlawful prose ; 20 Lampoons, whose authors strive in vain to throw Their headless arrows from a nerveless bow ; Poems by youths, who, crossing Nature's will, Harangue the landscape they were born to till ; Huge tomes of Law, that lead by rugged routes Through ancient dogmas down to modern doubts ; Where Judges oft, with well-affected ease, Give learned reasons for absurd decrees, Or, more ingenious still, contrive to found Some just decision on fallacious ground,' Or blink the point, and, haply, in its place, Moot and decide some hypothetic case ; Smart Epigrams, all sadly out of joint, And pointless, save the ' exclamation point, Which stands in state, with vacant wonder fraught, The pompous tombstone of some pauper thought ; Ingenious systems based on doubtful facts, * Tracts for the Times,' and most untimely tracts ; Polemic Pamphlets, Literary^toys, And Easy Lessons for uneasy boys ; Hebdomadal Gazettes, and Daily News, Gay Magazines, and Quarterly Reviews ; Small portion these, of all the vast array Of darkened leaves that cloud each passing day, And pour then* tide unceasingly along, A gathering, swelling, overwhelming throng ! Cease, O my Muse, nor, indiscreet, prolong To epic length thy unambitious song. Good friends, be gentle to a maiden Muse, Her errors pardon, and her faults excuse. A SATIHE. 21 4 Not uninvited to her task she came, 9 To sue for favor, not to seek for fame. Be this, at least, her just though humble praise : No stale excuses heralded her lays, No singer's trick, conveniently to bring A sudden cough, when importuned to sing; 7 No deprecating phrases, learned by rote/ ' She 'd quite forgot/ or ' never knew a note/ But to her task, with ready zeal, addressed Her earnest care, and aimed to do her best ; Strove to be just in each satiric word, To doubtful wit undoubted truth preferred, To please and profit equally has aimed, Nor been ill-natured even when she blamed. THE PROUD MISS MAC BRIDE: A LEGEND OF GOTHAM. O, TERRIBLY proud was Miss Mac Bride, The very personification of Piide, As she minced along in Fashion's tide, Adown Broadway, on the proper side, When the golden sun was setting ; There was pride in the head she carried so high, Pride in her lip, and pride in her eye, And a world of pride in the very sigh That her stately bosom- was fretting ; A sigh that a pair of elegant feet, Sandalled in satin, should kiss the street, - The very same that the vulgar greet In common leather not over ' neat,' For such is the common booting ; (And Christian tears may well be shed, That even among our gentlemen bred, The glorious day of Morocco is dead, And Day and Martin are raining instead, On a much inferior footing ! ) THE PROUD MISS MAC BRIDE. 23 O, terribly proud was Miss Mac Bride, Proud of her beauty, and proud of her pride, And proud of fifty matters beside That would n't have borne dissection ; Proud of her wit, and proud of her walk, Proud of her teeth, and proud of her talk, Proud of ' knowing cheese from chalk,' On a very slight inspection ! IV. Proud abroad, and proud at home, Proud wherever she chanced to come, When she was glad, and when she was glum ; Proud as the head of a Saracen Over the door of a tippling shop ! Proud as a duchess, proud as a fop, Proud as a boy with a bran-new top,' Proud beyond comparison 1 v. It seems a singular thing to say, But her very senses led her astray Respecting all humility ; In sooth, her dull auricular drum Could find in Humble only a * hum,' And heard no sound of ' gentle ' come, In talking about gentility. n. What Lowly meant she did n't know, For she always avoided ' everything low,' 24 THE PROUD MISS MAC BRIDE. With care the most punctilious, And queerer still, the audible sound Of * super-silly ' she never had found In the adjective supercilious 1 The meaning of Meek she never knew, But imagined the phrase had something to do With ' Moses,' a peddling German Jew, Who, like all hawkers the country through, Was a person of no position ; And it seemed to her exceedingly plain, If the word was really known to pertain To a vulgar German, it was n't germane To a lady of high condition ! Even her graces, not her grace, For that was in the * vocative case/ Chilled with the touch of her icy face, Sat very stiffly upon her ; She never confessed a favor aloud, Like one of the simple, common crowd, But coldly smiled, and faintly bowed, As who should say : * You do me proud, And do yourself an honor 1 ' And yet the pride of Miss Mac Bride, Although it had fifty hobbies to ride, Had really no foundation ; THE PROUD MISS MAC BRIDE. 25 But, like the fabrics that gossips devise, Those single stories that often arise And grow till they reach a four-story size, Was merely a fancy creation 1 x. 'T is a curious fact as ever was known In human nature, but often shown Alike in castle and cottage, That pride, like pigs of a certain breed, Will manage to live and thrive on * feed ' As poor as a pauper's pottage ! XI. That her wit should never have made her vain, Was, like her face, sufficiently plain ; And as to her musical powers, Although she sang until she was hoarse, And issued notes with a Banker's force, They were just such notes as we never indorse For any acquaintance of ours ! Her birth, indeed, was uncommonly high, For Miss Mac Bride first opened her eye Through a sky-light dim, on the light of the sky ; But pride is a curious passion, And in talking about her wealth and worth, She always forgot to mention her birth, To people of rank and fashion ! 2 26 THE PROUD MISS MAC BRIDE. Of all the notable things on earth, The queerest one is pride of birth, Among our * fierce Democratic ' 1 A bridge across a hundred years, Without a prop to save it from sneers, Not even a couple of rotten Peers, A thing for laughter, fleers, and jeers, Is American aristocracy ! English and Irish, French and Spanish, German, Italian, Dutch and Danish, Crossing their veins until they vanish In one conglomeration ! So subtle a tangle of Blood, indeed, No heraldry-Harvey will ever succeed In finding the circulation 1 Depend upon it, my snobbish friend, Your family thread you can't ascend, Without good reason to apprehend You may find it waxed at the farther end By some plebeian vocation ! Or, worse than that, your boasted Line May end in a loop of stronger twine, That plagued some worthy relation I XVI. But Miss Mac Bride hath something beside Her lofty birth to nourish her pride, THE PROUD MISS MAC BRIDE. 27 For rich was the old paternal Mac Bride, According to public rumor ; And he lived ' Up Town,' in a splendid Square, And kept his daughter on dainty fare, And gave her gems that were rich and rare. And the finest rings and things to wear, And feathers enough to plume her 1 An honest mechanic was John Mac Bride, As ever an honest calling plied, Or graced an honest ditty ; For John had worked in his early day, In ' Pots and Pearls,' the legends say, And kept a shop with a rich array Of things in the soap and candle way, In the lower part of the city. XVIII. No rara avis was honest John, (That's the Latin for sable swan,') Though, in one of his fancy flashes, A wicked wag, who meant to deride, Called honest John * Old Phoenix Mac Bride,' * Because he rose from his ashes ! ' XIX. Little by little he grew to be rich, By saving of candle-ends and ' sich,' Till he reached, at last, an opulent niche, No very uncommon affair ; 8 THE PROUD MISS MAC BRIDE. For history quite confirms the law Expressed in the ancient Scottish saw, A MICKLE may come to be May'r ! * Alack ! for many ambitious beaux ! She hung their hopes upon her nose, (The figure is quite Horatian ! f) Until from habit the member grew As queer a thing as ever you knew Turn up to observation 1 A thriving tailor begged her hand, But she gave ' the fellow ' to understand, By a violent manual action, She perfectly scorned the best of his clan, And reckoned the ninth of any man An exceedingly Vulgar- Fraction ! XXII. Another, whose sign was a golden boot, Was mortified with a bootless suit, In a way that was quite appalling ; For though a regular sutor by trade, He was n't a suitor to suit the maid, Who cut him off with a saw, and bade * The cobbler keep to his calling.' * Mickle wi' thrift may chance to be mair. Scotch Proverb, Andrew Mickle, former Mayor of New York. t " Omnia suspendens naso." THE PROUD MISS MAC BRIDE. 29 XXIII. (The Muse must let a secret out, There is n't the faintest shadow of doubt, That folks who oftenest sneer and flout At ' the dirty, low mechanicals,* Are they whose sires, by pounding their knees, Or coiling their legs, or trades like these, Contrived to win their children ease From poverty's galling manacles.) A rich tobacconist comes and sues, And, thinking the lady would scarce refuse A man of his wealth and liberal views, Began, at once, with ' If you choose, And could you really love him ' But the lady spoiled his speech in a huff, With an answer rough and ready enough, To let him know she was up to snuff, And altogether above him 1 A young attorney of winning grace, Was scarce allowed to ' open his face,' Ere Miss Mac Bride had closed his case With true judicial celerity ; For the lawyer was poor, and * seedy ' to boot, And to say the lady discarded his suit, Is merely a double verity. SO THE PROUD MISS MAC BRIDE. XXVI. The last of those who came to court Was a lively beau of the dapper sort, * Without any visible means of support,' A crime by no means flagrant In one who wears an elegant coat, But the very point on which they vote A ragged fellow ' a vagrant/ A courtly fellow was Dapper Jim, Sleek and supple, and tall and trim, And smooth of tongue as neat of limb ; And, maugre his meagre pocket, You 'd say, from the glittering tales he told, That Jim had slept in a cradle of gold, With Fortunatus to rock it I XXVIII. Now Dapper Jim his courtship plied, (I wish the fact could be denied,) With an eye to the purse of the old Mac Bride, And really ' nothing shorter ' ! For he said to himself, in his greedy lust, * Whenever he dies, as die he must, And yields to Heaven his vital trust, He 's very sure to " come down with his dust," In behalf of his only daughter.' And the very magnificent Miss Mac Bride, Half in love and half in pride, THE PROUD MISS MAC BRIDE. 3 1 Quite graciously relented ; And tossing her head, and turning her back, No token of proper pride to lack, To be a Bride without the ' Mac, With much disdain, consented ! Alas ! that people who 've got their box Of cash beneath the best of locks, Secure from all financial shocks, Should stock their fancy with fancy stocks, And madly rush upon Wall-street rocks, Without the least apology ! Alas ! that people whose money affairs Are sound beyond all need of repairs, Should ever tempt the bulls and bears Of Mammon's fierce Zoology ! XXXI. Old John Mac Bride, one fatal day, Became the unresisting prey Of Fortune's undertakers ; And staking his all on a single die, His foundered bark went high and dry Among the brokers and breakers I XXXII. At his trade again in the very shop Where, years before, he let it drop, He follows Tiis ancient calling, Cheerily, too, in poverty's spite, 32 THE PROUD MISS MAC BRIDE. And sleeping quite as sound at night, As when, at Fortune's giddy height, He used to wake with a dizzy fright From a dismal dream of falling. XXXIII. But alas for the haughty Miss Mac Bride ! * T was such a shock to her precious pride ! She could n't recover, although she tried Her jaded spirits to rally; *T was a dreadful change in human affairs From a Place * Up Town,' to a nook ' Up Stairs, From an Avenue down to an Alley ! 'T was little condolence she had, God wot, From her ' troops of friends/ who had n't forgot The airs she used to borrow ; They had civil phrases enough, but yet 'T was plain to see that their ' deepest regret ' Was a different thing from Sorrow 1 XXXV. They owned it could n't have well been worse, To go from a full to an empty purse ; To expect a reversion and get a ' reverse,' Was truly a dismal feature ; But it was n't strange, they whispered, at all; That the Summer of pride should have its Fall, Was quite according to Nature 1 . THE PROUD MISS MAC BRIDE. 33 XXXYI. And one of those chaps who make a pun, As if it were quite legitimate fun To be blazing away at every one, With a regular double-loaded gun, Remarked that moral transgression Always brings retributive stings To candle-makers, as well as kings : And making light of ccrcous things, Was a very wick-ed profession 1 And vulgar people, the saucy churls, Inquired about ' the price of Pearls/ And mocked at her situation ; * She was n't ruined, they ventured to hope, Because she was poor, she need n't mope, Pew people were better off for soap, And that was a consolation ! ' XXXVIII. And to make her cup of woe run over, Her elegant, ardent, plighted lover Was the very first to forsake her ; 'He quite regretted the step, 'twas true,- The lady had pride enough " for two," But that alone would never do To quiet the butcher and baker I' 2* c 34 THE PROUD MISS MAC BRIDE. XXXIX. And now the unhappy Miss Mac Bride, The merest ghost of her early pride, Bewails her lonely position ; Cramped in the very narrowest niche, Above the poor, and below the rich, Was ever a worse condition ? Because you flourish in worldly affairs, Don't be haughty, and put on airs, With insolent pride of station ! Don't be proud, and turn up your nose At poorer people in plainer clo'es, But learn, for the sake of your soul's repose, That wealth 's a bubble, that comes and goes ! And that all Proud Flesh,-A7terever it grows, Is subject to irritation I THE BRIEFLESS BARRISTER. A BALLAD. AN Attorney was taking a turn, In shabby habiliments drest ; His coat it was shockingly worn, And the rust had invested his vest. His breeches had suffered a breach, His linen and worsted were worse ; He had scarce a whole crown in his hat, And not half-a-crown in his purse. And thus as he wandered along, A cheerless and comfortless elf, He sought for relief in a song, Or complainingly talked to himself: * Unfortunate man that I am 1 I 've never a client but grief; The case is, I 've no case at all, And in brief, I 've ne'er had a brief 1 86 THE BRIEFLESS BARRISTER. * I 've waited and waited in vain, Expecting an " opening " to find, Where an honest young lawyer might gain Some reward for toil of his mind. "T is not that I 'm wanting in law, Or lack an intelligent face, That others have cases to plead, While I have to plead for a case. * O, how can a modest young man E'er hope for the smallest progression, The profession's already so full Of lawyers so full of profession!' While thus he was strolling around, His eye accidentally fell On a very deep hole intfie ground, And he sighed to himself, * It is well 1 ' To curb his emotions, he sat On the curbstone the space of a minute, Then cried, Here 's an opening at last I ' And in less than a jiffy was in it ! Next morning twelve citizens came, ('Twas the coroner bade them attend,) To the end that it might be determined How the man had determined his end ! THE BRIEFLESS BARRISTER. 37 * The man was a lawyer, I hear,' Quoth the foreman who sat on the corse. * A lawyer ? Alas ! ' said another, * Undoubtedly died of remorse 1 ' A third said, * He knew the deceased, An attorney well versed in the laws, And as to the cause of his death, 'T was no doubt for the want of a cause.' The jury decided at length, After solemnly weighing the matter, That the lawyer was drownt/ed, because He could not keep his head above water 1* RHYME OF THE RAH,. SINGING through the forests, Rattling over ridges, Shooting under arches, Rumbling over bridges, Whizzing through the mountains, Buzzing o'er the vale, Bless me ! this is pleasant, Riding on the Rail 1 Men of different ' stations * In the eye of Fame Here are very quickly Coming to the same. High and lowly people, Birds of every feather, On a common level Travelling together ! Gentleman in shorts, Looming very tall ; Gentleman at large, Talking very small ; Gentleman in tights, With a loose-ish mien ; Gentleman in gray, Looking rather green. RHYME OF THE RAIL. 39 Gentleman quite old, Asking for the news ; Gentleman m black, In a fit of bluesy Gentleman in claret, Sober as a vicar ; Gentleman in Tweed, Dreadfully in liquor 1 Stranger on the right, Looking very sunny, Obviously reading Something rather funny. Now the smiles are thicker, Wonder what they mean ? Faith, he 's got the KNICKER- BOCKER Magazine 1 Stranger on the left, Closing up his peepers ; Now he snores amain, Like the Seven Sleepers ; At his feet a volume Gives the explanation, How the man grew stupid From ' Association ' 1 Ancient maiden lady Anxiously remarks, That there must be peril 'Mong so many sparks ; 40 RHYME OF THE RAIL. Roguish-looking fellow, Turning to the stranger, Says it 's his opinion She is out of danger I Woman with her baby, Sitting vis-a-vis ; Baby keeps a squalling, Woman looks at me ; Asks about the distance, Says it 's tiresome talking, Noises of the cars Are so very shocking ! Market-woman careful Of the precious casket, Knowing eggs are eggs, Tightly holds her basket ; Feeling that a smash,. If it came, would surely Send her eggs to pot Rather prematurely ! Singing through the forests, Rattling over ridges, Shooting under arches, Rumbling over bridges, Whizzing through the mountains, Buzzing o'er the vale ; Bless me ! this is pleasant, Riding on the Rail 1 THE KAPE OF THE LOCK; OR, CAPTAIN JONES'S MISADVENTURE. To follow the line of Captain JONES Back to the old ancestral bones Were surely an idle endeavor; For all that is known of the family feats Is that his sire, as a paver of streets, Had paved his way in a manner that meets The appellation of clever. n. 'T were pleasant enough more fully to trace The various steps in the Captain's race, If the records of heraldry had 'em ; But History leaps at a single span From the primitive pah* to the pavior-man, From ADAM down to MAC ADAM. in. 'T was rumored indeed, but nobody knows What credit to give to such rumors as those, His grandpapa was a cooper ; 42 THE RAPE OF THE LOCK. But getting fatigued with this roundabout mode Of staving through life, he took to the Road, As a kind of irregular trooper. But soon, although a fellow of pluck, By a singular turn in the wheel of luck, He met with a mortal miscarriage, By means of a cord that was dangling loose, And fell over his head in a dangerous noose That was n't at all like Marriage. A tale invented by foes, no doubt, Which idle people had helped about, Till it went alone, it got so stout ; For as to the truth of the story, I scarcely ought to have named it here, It seems to me so exceedingly clear, The fable is Newgate-ory. VI. And that 's the pith of the pedigree Of Captain JOXES, whose family tree Was a little shrub, 't is plain to see ; But what the topers mention Respecting wine, is true of blood : It ' needs no bush if it 's only good,' Much less a tree of the oldest wood, To warrant the world's attention. THE RAPE OF THE LOCK. 43 VII. Now Captain JONES was a five-feet ten, (The height of CHESTERFIELD'S gentlemen,) With a nianly breadth of shoulder ; And Captain JOXES was straight and trim, With nothing about him anywise slim, And had for a leg as perfect a limb As ever astonished beholder 1 With a calf of such a notable size, 'T would surely have taken the highest prize At any fair Fair in creation ; 'T was just the leg for a prince to sport Who wished to stand at a Royal Court, At the head of Foreign Leg-ation 1 And Captain JONES had an elegant foot, 'T was just the thing for his patent boot, And could so prettily shove it, 'T was a genuine pleasure to see it repeat In the public walks the Milonian feat Of bearing the calf above it ! x. But the Captain's prominent personal charm Was neither his foot, nor leg, nor arm, Nor his very distingue air ; Nor was it, although you 're thinking upon 't, The front of his head, but his head and front Of beautiful coal-black hair 1 44 THE RAPE OF THE LOCK. XI. So very bright -was the gloss they had, 'T would have made a rival raving mad To look at his raven curls ; Wherever he went, the Captain's hair Was certain to fix the public stare, And the constant cry was, ' I declare ! ' And ' Did you ever ! ' and ' Just look there 1 * Among the dazzled girls. Now Captain JONES was a master bold Of a merchant-ship some dozen years old, And every name could have easily told, (And never confound the ' hull ' and the ' hold,') Throughout her inventory ; And he had travelled in foreign parts, And learned a number of--foreign arts, And played the deuce with foreign hearts, As the Captain told the story. XIII. He had learned to chatter the French and Spanish, To splutter the Dutch, and mutter the Danish, In a way that sounded oracular ; Had gabbled among the Portuguese, And caught the Tartar, or rather a piece Of * broken China,' it was n't Chinese, Anv more than his own vernacular ! THE RAPE OF THE LOCK. 45 XIV. How Captain JONES was wont to shine In the line of ships ! (not Ships of the Line,) How he 'd brag of the water aver his wine, And of woman over the water ! And then, if you credit the Captain's phrase, He was more expert in such queer ways As ' doubling capes ' and ' putting in stays,' Than any milliner's daughter 1 XV. Now the Captain kept in constant pay A single Mate, as a Captain may (In a nautical, not in a naughty way, As 'mates' are sometimes carried) ; But to hear him prose of the squalls that arose In the dead of the night to break his repose, Of white-caps and cradles, and such things as those, And of breezes that ended in regular blows, You 'd have sworn the Captain was married XVI. The Captain's morals were fair enough, Though a sailor's life is rather rough, By dint of the ocean's force ; 'And that one who makes so many, in ships, Should make, upon shore, occasional * trips,' Seems quite a matter of course. And Captain JONES was stiff as a post To the vulgar fry, but among the most 46 THE RAPE OF THE LOCK. Genteel and polished, ruled the roast, As no professional cook could boast That ever you set your eye on ; Indeed, 't was enough to make him vain, For the pretty and proud confessed his reign, And Captain JOXES, in manners and mane, Was deemed a genuine lion. XVIII. And the Captain revelled early and late, At the balls and routs of the rich and great, And seemed the veriest child of fetes, Though merely a minion of pleasure ; And he laughed with the girls in merry sport, And paid the mammas the civilest court, And drank their wine, whatever the sort, By the nautical rule of ' Any port ' You may add the re^st at leisure. XIX. Miss SUSAN BROWN was a dashing girl As ever revolved in the waltz's whirl, Or twinkled a foot in the polka's twirl, By the glare of spermaceti ; And SUSAN'S form was trim and slight, And her beautiful skin, as if in spite Of her dingy name, ,was exceedingly white, And her azure eyes were * sparkling and bright,' And so was her favorite ditty. THE RAPE OF THE LOCK. 47 XX. And SUSAN BROWN had a score of names, Like the very voluminous Mr. JAMES (Who got at the Font his strongest claims To be reckoned a Man of Letters) ; But thinking the task will hardly please Scholars who J ve taken the higher degrees, To be set repeating their A, B, C's, I choose to reject such fetters as these, Though merely Nominal fetters. The patronymical name of the maid Was so completely overlaid With a long praenominal cover, That if each additional proper noun Was laid with additional emphasis down, Miss SUSAN was done uncommonly BROWN, The moment her christ'ning was over 1 And SUSAN was versed in modern romance, In the Modes of MURRAY and Modes of France, And had learned to sing and learned to dance, In a style decidedly pretty ; And SUSAN was versed in classical lore, In the works of HORACE, and several more Whose opera now would be voted a bore By the lovers of DONIZETTI. 48 T1IE RAPE OF THE LOCK. XXIII. And SUSAN was rich. Her provident sire Had piled the dollars up higher and higher, By dint of his personal labors, Till he reckoned at last a sufficient amount To be counted, himself, a man of account Among his affluent neighbors. XXIV. By force of careful culture alone, Old BROWN'S estate had rapidly grown A plum for his only daughter ; And, after all the fanciful dreams Of golden fountains and golden streams, The sweat of patient labor seems The true Pactolian water. And while your theorist worries his mind In hopes ' the magical stone ' to find, By some alchemical gammon, Practical people, by regular knocks, Are filling their * pockets full of rocks ' From the golden mountain of Mammon I With charms like these, you may well suppose Miss SUSAN BROWN had plenty of beaux, Breathing nothing but passion ; THE RAPE OF THE LOCK. 49 And twenty sought her hand to gain, And twenty sought her hand in vain, Were 'cut/ and didn't 'come again,' In the Ordinary fashion. XXVII. Captain JONES, by the common voice, At length was voted the man of her choice, And she his favorite fair ; It was n't the Captain's manly face, His native sense, nor foreign grace, That took her heart from its proper place And put it into a tenderer case, But his beautiful coal-black hair ! XXVIII. How it is, wliy it is, none can tell, But all philosophers know full well, Though puzzled about the action, That of all the forces under the sun You can hardly find a stronger one Than capillary attraction. The locks of canals are strong as rocks ; And wedlock is strong as a banker's box ; And there 's strength in the locks a Cockney cocks At innocent birds, to give himself knocks ; In the locks of safes, and those safety-locks They call the Permutation ; 3 D 50 THE RAPE OF THE LOCK. But of all the locks that ever were made In Nature's shops, or the shops of trade, The subtlest combination Of beauty and strength is found in those Which grace the heads of belles and beaux In every civilized nation 1 XXX. The gossips whispered it through the town, That ' Captain JONES loved SUSAN BROWN;' But, speaking with due precision, The gossips' tattle was out of joint, For the lady's ' blunt ' was the only point - That dazzled the lover's vision'! And the Captain begged, in his smoothest tones, Miss SUSAN BROWN to be Mistress JONES, Flesh of his flesh and bone of his bones, Till death the union should sever ; For these are the words employed, of course, Though Death is cheated, sometimes, by Divorce, A fact which gives an equivocal force To that beautiful phrase, 'forever!' XXXII. And SUSAN sighed the conventional ' Nay* In such a bewitching, affirmative way, The Captain perceived 't was the feminine * Ay/ And sealed it in such commotion, THE RAPE OF THE LOCK. 51 That no * lip-service ' that ever was paid To the ear of a god, or the cheek of a maid, Looked more like real devotion ! XXXIII. And SUSAN'S Mamma made an elegant fete And exhibited all the family plate In honor of SUSAN'S lover ; For now 't was settled, another trip Over the sea in his merchant-ship, And his bachelor-ship was over. There was an Alderman, well to do, Who was fond of talking about vertu, And had, besides, the genuine gout, If one might credit his telling ; And the boast was true beyond a doubt If he had only pronounced it * gout,* According to English spelling ! XXXV. A crockery-merchant of great parade, Always boasting of having made His large estate in the China trade ; Several affluent tanners ; A lawyer, whose most important * case * Was that which kept his books in place ; His wife, a lady of matchless grace, ought her form, and made her face, Who plainly borrowed her manners ; 52 THE RAPE OF THE LOCK. XXXVI A druggist ; an undercut divine ; A banker, who 'd got as rich as a mine * In the cotton trade and sugar line,' Along the Atlantic border ; A doctor, fumbling his golden seals ; And an undertaker close at his heels, Quite in the natural order 1 XXXVII. People of rank, and people of wealth, Plethoric people in delicate health, (Who fast in public, and feast by stealth,) And people slender and hearty, Flocked in so fast, 't was plain to the eye Of any observer standing by, That party-spirit was running high, And this was the popular party 1 To tell what griefs and woes betide The hapless world, from female pride, Were a long and dismal story ; Alas for SUSAN and womankind ! A sudden ambition seized her mind, In the height of her party-glory. XXXIX. To pique a group of laughing girls Who stood admiring the Captain's curls, She formed the resolution THE RAPE OF THE LOCK. 53 To get a lock of her lover's hair, In the gaze of the guests assembled there, By some expedient, foul or fair Before the party's conclusion. XL. 4 Only a lock, dear Captain ! no more, " A lock for memory," I implore ! ' But JOXES, the gayest of quizzers, Replied, as he gave his eye a cock, * 'T is a treacherous memory needs a lock,' And dodged the envious scissors. XLI. Alas that SUSAN could n't refrain, In her zeal the precious lock to gain, From laying her hand on the lion's inane I To see the cruel mocking, And hear the short, affected cough, The general titter, and chuckle, and scoff, When the Captain's Patent Wig came off", Was really dreadfully shocking ! Of SUSAN'S swoon, the tale is told, That long before her earthly mould Regained its ghostly tenant, Her luckless, wigless, loveless lover Was on the sea, and ' half-seas-over,' Dreaming that some piratical rover Had carried away his Pennant I A RHYMED EPISTLE TO THE EDITOR OF THE KNICKERBOCKER MAGAZINE. DEAR KNICK : While myself and my spouse Sat tea-ing last evening, and chatting, And, mindful of conjugal vows, Were nicely agreed in combating, It chanced that myself and my wife, ('T was Madam occasioned the pother !) Falling suddenly into a strife, Came near falling out with each other ! In a brisk, miscellaneous chat, Quite in tune with the chime of the tea-things, We were talking of this and of that, Just as each of us happened to see things, When some how or other it chanced, (I don't quite remember the cue,) That as talking and tea-ing advanced, W T e found we were talking of you 1 I think but perhaps I am wrong, Such a subtle old chap is Suggestion, As he forces each topic along By the trick of the ' previous question ' A RHYMED EPISTLE. 55 Some remarks on a bacchanal revel Suggested that horrible elf With the hoof and the horns, and the Devil, Excuse me, suggested yourself I * Ah ! Knick, to be sure ; by the way,' Quoth Madam, ' what sort of a man Do you take him to be ! nay, but stay, And let me guess him out if I can. He 's young, and quite handsome, no doubt ; Rather slender, and not over-tall ; And he loves a snug little turn-out, And turns out " quite a love " at a ball 1* And then she went on to portray Such a very delightful ideal, That a sensible stranger would say It really could n't be real. * And his wife, what a lady must she be ? (KxiCK 's married, that I know, and you know ;) You '11 find her a delicate Hebe, And not your magnificent Juno ! ' Now I am a man, you must learn, Less famous for beauty than strength, And, for aught I could ever discern, Of rather superfluous length. In truth 'tis but seldom one meets Such a Titan in human abodes, And when I stalk over the streets, I 'in a perfect Colossus of roads 1 56 A RHYMED EPISTLE. So I frowned like a tragedy-Roman, For in painting the beautiful elf As the form of your lady, the woman Took care to be drawing herself; While, mark you, the picture she drew So deused con amore and free, That fanciful likeness of you, Was by no means a portrait of me I ' How lucky for ladies/ I hinted, 4 That in our republican land They may prattle, without being stinted, Of matters they don't understand ; I'll show you, dear Madam, that " KXICK "' Is n't dapper nor daintily slim, But a gentleman decently thick, With a manly extension of limb. * And as to his youth talk of flowers Blooming gayly in frosty December ! 1 11 warrant, his juvenile hours Are things he can scarcely remember ! Here, Madam, quite plain to be seen, Is the chap you would choose for a lover And, producing your own Magazine, I pointed elate to the cover 1 ' You see, ma'am, *t is just as I said, His locks are as gray as a rat ; Here, look at the crown of his head, 'T is bald as the crown of my hat I A RHYMED EPISTLE. 57 * Nay, my dear,* interrupted my wife, Who began to be casting about To get the last word in the strife, * 'T is his grandfather's picture, no doubt ! ' THE DOG-DAYS. "Hot! hot ! all piping hot." City Cries. HEAVEN help us all in these terrific days ! The burning sun upon the earth is pelting With his directest, fiercest, hottest rays, And everything is melting ! Fat men, infatuate, fan the stagnant air, In rash essay to cool thejr...inward glowing, While with each stroke, in dolorous despair, They feel the fever growing 1 The lean and lathy find a fate as hard, For, all a-dry, they burn like any tinder Beneath the solar blaze, till withered, charred, And crisped away to cinder! E'en Stojcs now are in the melting mood, And vestal cheeks are most unseemly florid ; The very zone that girts the frigid prude Is now intensely torrid 1 THE DOG-DAYS. 59 The dogs lie lolling in the deepest shade ; The pigs are all a-wallow in the gutters, And not a household creature cat or inaid, But querulously mutters 1 4 'T is dreadful, dreadful hot ! ' exclaims each one Unto his sweating, sweltering, roasting neighbor, Then mops his brow, and sighs, as he had done A quite herculean labor 1 And friends who pass each other in the town Say no good-morrows when they come together, But only mutter, with a dismal frown, 4 What horrid, horrid weather 1 ' While prudent mortals curb with strictest care All vagrant curs, it seems the queerest puzzle The Dog-star rages rabid through the air, Without the slightest muzzle ! But Jove is wise and equal in his sway, Howe'er it seems to clash with human reason, His fiery dogs will soon have had their day, And men shall have a season ! 60 ON A RECENT CLASSIC CONTROVERSY. ON A RECENT CLASSIC CONTROVERSY. AN EPIGRAM. NAY, marvel not to see these scholars fight, In brave disdain of certain scath and scar ; 'Tis but the genuine old Hellenic spite, * When Greek meets Greek, then conies the tug of war T ANOTHER. QUOTH David to Daniel, * Why is it these scholars Abuse one another whenever they speak ? ' Quoth Daniel to David, * It nat'rally follers Folks come to hard words if they meddle with Greek 1* THE GHOST-PLAYER. A BALLAD. TOM GOODWIN was an actor-man, Old Drury's pride and boast In all the light and sprite-ly parts, Especially the Ghost. Now Tom was very fond of drink, Of almost every sort, Comparative and positive, From porter up to port. But grog, like grief, is fatal stuff For any man to sup ; For when it fails to pull him down, It 's sure to blow him up. And so it fared with ghostly Tom, Who day by day was seen A-swelling, till (as lawyers say) He fairly lost his lean. 62 THE GHOST-PLAYER. At length the manager observed He 'd better leave his post, And said, he played the very deuse Whene'er he played the Ghost. 'T was only t' other night he saw A fellow swing his hat, And heard him cry, By all the gods ! The Ghost is getting fat 1 ' T would never do, the case was plain ; His eyes he could n't shut ; Ghosts should n't make the people laugh, And Tom was quite a butt. Tom's actor friends said ne'er a word To cheer his drooping heart ; Though more than one was burning up With zeal to ' take his part.' Tom argued very plausibly ; He said he did n't doubt That Hamlet's father drank and grew, In years, a little stout. And so, 't was natural, he said, And quite a proper plan, To have his spirit represent A portly sort of man. 'T was all in vain : the manager Sai$ he was not in sport, And, like a gen'ral, bade poor Tom Surrender up lusjbrte. ON AN ILL-READ LAWYER. 63 He 'd do perhaps in heavy parts, Might answer for a monk, Or porter to the elephant, To carry round his trunk ; But in the Ghost his day was past, He 'd never do for that ; A Ghost might just as well be dead As plethoric and fat I Alas ! next day poor Tom was found As stifF as any post ; For he had lost his character, And given up the Ghost J ON AN ILL-READ LAWYER. AN EPIGRAM. AN idle attorney besought a brother For ' something to read some novel or other, That was really fresh and new.' * Take Chitty ! ' replied his legal friend, * There is n't a book that I could lend Would prove more " novel " to you ! ' A BENEDICT'S APPEAL TO A BACHELOR " Double ! double ! " Shakespeare* I. DEAR CHARLES, be persuaded to wed, For a sensible fellow like you, It 's high time to think of a bed, And muffins and coffee for two ! So have done with your doubt and delaying, With a soul so adapted to mingle, No wonder the neighbor? are saying Tis singular you should be single ! IT. Don't say that you have n't got time, That business demands your attention, There 's not the least reason nor rhyme In the wisest excuse you can mention. Don't tell me about ' other fish,' Your duty is done when you buy 'em, And you never will relish the dish, Unless you 've a woman to fry 'em 1 A BENEDICT'S APPEAL TO A BACHELOR. 65 Don't listen to querulous stories By desperate damsels related, Who sneer at connubial glories, Because they 've known couples mismated. Such people, if they had their pleasure, Because silly bargains are made, Would deem it a rational measure To lay an embargo on trade 1 You may dream of poetical fame, But your wishes may chance to miscarry, - The best way of sending one's name To posterity, Charles, is to marry 1 And here I am willing to own, After soberly thinking upon it, I 'd very much rather be known For a beautiful son, than a sonnet I v. To Procrastination be deaf, (A homily sent from above,) The scoundrel 's not only ' the thief Of time,' but of beauty and love ! O delay not one moment to win A prize that is truly worth winning, Celibacy, Charles, is a sin, And sadly prolific of sinning ! E 66 A BENEDICT'S APPEAL TO A BACHELOR. VI. Then pray bid your doubting good-by, And dismiss all fantastic alarms, I '11 be sworn you 've a girl in your eye 'T is your duty to have in your arms ! Some trim little maiden of twenty, A beautiful, azure-eyed elf, With virtues and graces in plenty, And no failing but loving yourself I Don't search for ' an angel ' a minute ; For granting you win in the sequel, The deuse, after all, would be in it, With a union so very unequal The angels, it must be confessed, In this world are rather uncommon ; And allow me, dear Charles, to suggest You '11 be better content with a woman I VIII. I could furnish a bushel of reasons For choosing a conjugal mate, It agrees with all climates and seasons, And gives you a ' double estate ' 1 To one's parents 'tis (gratefully) due, Just think what a terrible thing 'T would have been, sir, for me and for you, If ours had forgotten the ring ! A BENEDICT'S APPEAL TO A BACHELOR. 67 IX. Then there 's the economy - clear, By poetical algebra shown, If your wife has a grief or a fear, One half, by the law, is your own ! And as to the joys by division, They 're nearly quadrupled, 'tis said, (Though I never could see the addition Quite plain in the item of bread). x. Remember, I do not pretend There 's anything ' perfect ' about it, But this I '11 aver to the end, Life 's very imperfect without it ! 'T is not that there 's ' poetry ' in it, As, doubtless, there may be to those Endowed with a genius to win it, But I '11 warrant you excellent prose ! Then, Charles, be persuaded to wed, For a sensible fellow like you, It 's high time to think of a bed, And muffins and coffee for two ; So have done with your doubt and delaying, With a soul so adapted to mingle, No wonder the neighbors are saying 'T is singular you should be single ! BOYS. * THE proper study of mankind is man,' The most perplexing one, no doubt, is woman The subtlest study that the mind can scan, Of all deep problems, heavenly or human ! But of all studies in the round of learning, From nature's marvels down to human toys, To minds well fitted for aeate discerning, The very queerest one is that of boys ! - If to ask questions that would puzzle Plato, And all the schoolmen of the Middle Age, If to make precepts worthy of old Cato, Be deemed philosophy, your boy 's a sage ! If the possession of a teeming fancy, (Although, forsooth, the younker does n't know it, Which he can use in rarest necromancy, Be thought poetical, your boy 's a poet ! WOMAN'S WILL. If a strong will and most courageous bearing, If to be cruel as the Roman Nero ; If all that 's chivalrous, and all that 's daring, Can make a hero, then the boy 's a hero ! But changing soon with his increasing stature, The boy is lost in manhood's riper age, And with him goes his former triple nature, No longer Poet, Hero, now, nor Sage ! WOMAN'S WILL. AN EPIGBAM. MEN dying make their wills, but wives Escape a work so sad ; Why should they make what all their lives The gentle dames have had ? THE COLD-WATER MAN. A BALLAD. IT was an honest fisherman, I knew him passing well, And he lived by a little pond, Within a little dell. A grave and quiet man was he, Who loved his hook and rod, So even ran his line of life, His neighbors thought it odd. For science and for books, he said He never had a wish, No school to him was worth a fig, Except a school of fish. He ne'er aspired to rank or wealth, Nor cared about a name, For though much famed for fish was he, He never fished for fame ! THE COLD-WATER MAX. 71 Let others bend their necks at sight Of Fashion's gilded wheels, He ne'er had learned the art to ' bob ' For anything but eels ! A cunning fisherman was he, His angles all were right ; The smallest nibble at his bait Was sure to prove * a bite ' ! All day this fisherman would sit Upon an ancient log, And gaze into the water, like Some sedentary frog ; With all the seeming innocence, And that unconscious look, That other people often wear When they intend to * hook ' 1 To charm the fish he never spoke, Although his voice was fine, He found the most convenient way Was just to drop a line ! And many a gudgeon of the pond, If they could speak to-day, Would own, with grief, this angler had A mighty taking way 1 THE COLD-WATER MAN. Alas! one day this fisherman Had taken too much grog, And being but a landsman, too, He could n't keep the log I 'T was all in vain with might and main He strove to reach the shore ; Down down he went, to feed the fish He 'd baited oft before 1 The jury gave their verdict that 'T was nothing else but gin Had caused the fisherman to be So sadly taken in ; Though one stood out upon a whim, And said the angler's slaughter, To be exact about the fact, Was, clearly, gin-and-wafer / The moral of this mournful tale, To all is plain and clear, That drinking habits bring a man Too often to his bier ; And he who scorns to * take the pledge, And keep the promise fast, May be, in spite of fate, a stiff Cold-water man at last I THE DAGUERROTYPE. 73 ON AN UGLY PERSON SITTING FOB A DAGUERROTYPE. AN EPIGRAM. HERE Nature in her glass the wanton elf Sits gravely making faces at herself; And, while she scans each clumsy feature o'er, Repeats the blunders that she made before ! A COLLEGE REMINISCENCE. ADDRESSED TO THOMAS B. THORPE, ESQ., OF NEW ORLEANS. DEAR TOM, have you forgot the day When, long ago, we used to stray Among the 4 Haddams' '? Where, in the mucky road, a man (The road was built on Adam's plan, And not McAdam's !) Went down down down, one stormy night, And disappeared from human sight, All save his hat, Which raised in sober minds a sense Of some mysterious Providence In sparing that ? I think 't will please you, Tom, to hear The man who in that night of fear Went down terrestrial, Worked out a passage like a miner, And, pricking through somewhere iu China, Came up Celestial ! A COLLEGE REMINISCENCE. 75 Ah ! those were memorable times, And worth embalming in my rhymes, When, at the summons Of chapel bell, we left our sport For lessons most uncommon short, Or shorter commons ! I mind me Tom, you often drew Nice portraits, and exceeding true To your intention ! The most impracticable faces Discovered unsuspected graces, By your invention. On brainless heads the finest bumps (Erected by your pencil-thumps) Were plainly seen ; Your Yankees all were very Greek, Unchosen aunts grew ' choice antique/ And blues turned green 1 The swarthy suddenly were fair, And yellow changed to auburn hair Or sunny flax ; And people very thin and flat, Like Aldermen, grew round and fat On canvas-backs 1 I well remember all your art To make the best of every part, I am certain no man 76 A COLLEGE REMINISCENCE. Could better coax a wrinkle out, Or elevate a lowly snout, Or snub a Roman I Young gentlemen with leaden eyes Stared wildly out on lowering skies, Quite Corsair-fashion ; And greenish orbs got very blue, And linsey-woolsey maidens grew Almost Circassian 1 And many an ancient maiden aunt As lean and lank as John O'Gaunt, Or even lanker, By art transformed and newly drest, Could boast for once as full a chest As any banker 1 Ah ! we were jolly youngsters then, But now we 're sober-sided men, Half through life's journey ; And you 've turned author, Tom, I hear, And I you '11 think it very queer Have turned attorney ! Heaven bless you, Tom, in house and heart 1 (That we should live so far apart Is much a pity,) And may you multiply your name, And have a very * crescent ' fame, Just like your city 1 FAMILY QUARRELS. 77 FAMILY QUARRELS. AN EPIGRAM. * A FOOL,' said Jeanette, * is a creature I hate 1 ' 4 But hating,' quoth John, ' is immoral ; Besides, my dear girl, it 's a terrible fate To be found in a family quarrel 1 ' SONNET TO A CLAM. Dam tacent cJamant. INGLORIOUS FRIEND ! most confident I am Thy life is one of very little ease ; Albeit men mock thee with their similes And prate of being ' happy as a clam ' ! What though thy shell protects thy fragile head From the sharp bailiffs of the briny sea ? Thy valves are, sure, no safety-valves to thee, While rakes are free to desecrate thy bed, And bear thee off, as foemen take their spoil, Far from thy friends and family to roam ; Forced, like a Hessian, from thy native home, To meet destruction in a foreign broil ! Though thou art tender, yet thy humble bard Declares, O clam ! thy case is shocking hard ! A REASONABLE PETITION. You say, dearest girl, you esteem me, And hint of respectful regard, And I 'm certain it would n't beseem me Such an excllent gift to discard. But even the Graces, you'll own, Would lose half their beauty apart, And Esteem, when she stands all alone, Looks most unbecomingly tart. So grant me, dear girl, this petition : If Esteem e'er again should come hither, Just to keep her in cheerful condition, Let Love come in company with her 1 GUNEOPATHY. I SAW a lady yesterday, A regular M. D., Who 'd taken from the Faculty Her medical degree ; And I thought, if ever I was sick, My doctor she should be ! I pity the deluded man Who foolishly consults Another man, in hopes to find Such magical resul|a As when a pretty woman lays Her hand upon his pulse ! I had a strange disorder once, A kind of chronic chill, That all the doctors in the town, With all then- vaunted skill, Could never cure, I 'in very s.ure, With powder nor with pill ; I don't know what they calk-