Here are two of them as follows:--
ON HIS WEDDING-DAY.
"Here's a happy new year! But with reason
I beg you'll permit me to say--
Wish me many returns of the season,
But as few as you please of the day."
At a later period he wrote--
"This day, of all our days, has done
The worst for _me_ and _you_:
'Tis just six years since we were _one_,
And five since we were _two_."
Lord Byron's friend, Thomas Moore, wrote many excellent epigrams, and not
a few were penned about him. He published his first volume of poems under
the name of Thomas Little. It is stated that a lady found a copy of the
book under the pillow of her maid's bed, and wrote on it in pencil:--
"You read _Little_, I guess;
I wish you'd read _less_."
The servant was equal to her mistress, and wrote:--
"I read Little before,
Now I mean to read _Moore_."
Lord Byron wrote the following in 1811 on Moore's farcical opera:--
"Good plays are scarce;
So Moore writes farce;
The poet's fame grows brittle--
We knew before
That Little's Moore,
But now 'tis Moore that's Little."
Respecting Moore's duel with Lord Jeffrey, Theodore Hook composed the
following lines:--
"When Anacreon would fight, as the poets have said,
A reverse he displayed in his vapour,
For while all his poems were loaded with lead,
His pistols were loaded with paper.
For excuses, Anacreon old custom may thank,
Such salvo he should not abuse;
For the cartridge, by rule, is always made blank
That is fired away at _Reviews_."
"Moore is here called Anacreon," says W. Davenport Adams, "in allusion to
his translations from that poet." The duel was owing to an article in the
_Edinburgh Review_, which Moore thought proper to resent by challenging
the editor. The combatants were, however, arrested on the ground, and
conveyed to Bow Street, where the pistols were found to contain merely a
charge of powder, the balls having in some way disappeared. Byron alludes
to the circumstance in _English Bards and Scotch Reviewers_:--
"When Little's leadless pistol met his eye,
And Bow Street myrmidons stood laughing by."
After this strange encounter, the poet and critic were firm friends.
Slips of the pen have given rise to some smart epigrammatic corrections.
Albert Smith wrote in an album as follows:--
"Mont Blanc is the Monarch of Mountains,
They crown'd him long ago;
But who they got to put it on
Nobody seems to know."
ALBERT SMITH.
Thackeray was successfully solicited to contribute to the same book, and
wrote under the fore-going:--
A HUMBLE SUGGESTION.
"I know that Albert wrote in a hurry,
To criticize I scarce presume;
But methinks that Lindley Murray,
Instead of _who_ had written _whom_."
W. M. THACKERAY.
Samuel Warren on one occasion made a slip in writing in an album,
misquoting Moore, writing "glory's throb" instead of "glory's thrill." The
mistake formed the subject of the following impromptu lines by Mr. Digby
Seymour:--
"Warren, thy memory was poor
The Irish bard to rob,
Had you remembered Tommy Moore,
Glory would 'thrill,' not 'throb.'"
The vanity of Mr. Warren was unusually largely developed, and gave rise to
a number of amusing anecdotes. Sir George Rose thus refers to his
weakness:--
"Samuel Warren, though able, yet vainest of men,
Could he guide with discretion his tongue and his pen,
His course would be clear for--'Ten Thousand a Year;'
But limited else be a brief--'Now and Then.'"
For a long period Mr. Warren was the Recorder for Hull. Mr. Thompson, the
Town Clerk, was a gentleman of cultivated literary tastes, and able to
compose a neat epigram. He wrote the following:--
"Our Recorder, Sam Warren, from all that I hear,
Is one of the kindest of men,
For a friend he presents with 'Ten Thousand a Year,'
And adds to the gift 'Now and Then.'"
Mr. William Harrison Ainsworth, the romance writer, was very unpopular
with the contributors of _Punch_, and many were the satires on him in its
pages. Colburn published a magazine, in which many of Ainsworth's novels
appeared, and this gave rise to the following epigram:--
"Says Ainsworth to Colburn:
'A plan in my pate is
To give my romance as
A supplement gratis.'
"Says Colburn to Ainsworth:
''Twill do very nicely,
For that will be charging
Its value precisely.'"
In early manhood, Edwin Paxton Hood called upon Bulwer Lytton without any
introduction. The servant told him that his master could not be seen. On
receiving the intimation, Hood took out of his pocket pencil and paper,
and wrote as follows:--
"A son of song, to fame unknown,
Stands waiting in your hall below;
Your footman tells him to begone;
Say, mighty Bulwer, shall he go?"
It is not surprising to learn that the impromptu lines proved an effective
introduction. The interview was the first of many pleasant meetings
between the author of _The Caxtons_ and Mr. Paxton Hood.
Poetical Graces.
Literary by-paths furnish some singular specimens of poetical graces. We
produce a few for the entertainment of our readers.
Robert Fergusson, the Edinburgh poet, was born in 1751, and was a student
at St. Andrews' University from his thirteenth to his seventeenth year. It
was the duty of each student, in turn, to ask a blessing at the dinner
table. One day, to the consternation of all, the youthful bard repeated
the following lines:
"For rabbits young, and for rabbits old,
For rabbits hot, and for rabbits cold,
For rabbits tender, and for rabbits tough,
Our thanks we render, for we've had enough."
The masters of the college deliberated how they should punish the
graceless poet. It was finally resolved not to censure him, but to have in
the future a more spare supply of rabbits. Poor Fergusson's sad career
closed in a lunatic asylum at an early age, not, however, before he had
enriched Scottish poetical literature with some important contributions.
Burns appears to have had a great admiration for this wayward son of song.
He placed over his remains in the Canongate Churchyard, Edinburgh, a
tombstone bearing the following inscription:--
"Here lies Robert Fergusson,
Poet, born September 5th, 1751,
Died October 16th, 1774.
No sculptured marble here, nor pompous lay
No storied urn, nor animated bust;
This simple stone directs pale Scotia's way
To pour her sorrows o'er her Poet's dust."
On the back of the stone it is stated:--
"By special grant of the Managers to Robert Burns, who erected this stone,
this burial place is ever to remain sacred to the memory of Robert
Fergusson."
More than one poetical grace is attributed to the facile pen of Burns. His
grace before dinner is well known, and is as follows:--
"Oh Thou who kindly dost provide
For every creature's want!
We bless Thee, God of nature wide,
For all Thy goodness lent:
And if it please Thee, Heavenly guide,
May never worse be sent,
But whether granted or denied,
Lord, bless us with content."
It is said that at one of Burns's convivial dinners he was desired to say
grace, and he gave the following, impromptu:
"O Lord we do Thee humbly thank
For what we little merit;--
Now Jean may tak' the flesh away,
And Will bring on the spirit."
On one occasion a rhymster, who had placed before him a supper small in
quantity and poor in quality, invoked a blessing with the following
lines:--
"O Thou who bless'd the loaves and fishes
Look down upon these two poor dishes;
And though the 'tatoes be but small,
Lord make them large enough for all;
For if they do our bellies fill,
'Twill be a wondrous miracle."
This reminds us of an epigram entitled "Dress v. Dinner:"--
What is the reason, can you guess,
Why men are poor, and women thinner?
So much do they for dinner dress,
There's nothing left to dress for dinner.
On a graceless peer an epigrammatist wrote:--
"'By proxy I pray, and by proxy I vote,'
A graceless peer said to a churchman of note;
Who answered,'My lord, then I venture to say,
You'll to heaven ascend in a similar way.'"
Here is a grateful grace:--
"Some hae meat that canna eat,
An' some cou'd eat that want it;
But we hae meat, an' we can eat,
Sae let the Lord be thankit."
The Rev. Samuel Wesley, formerly vicar of Epworth, and another friend were
entertained to dinner at Temple Belwood, by a host noted as a strange
compound of avarice and oddity. Mr. Wesley returned thanks with the
following impromptu lines:--
"Thanks for the feast, for 'tis no less
Than eating manna in the wilderness,
Here meagre famine bears controlless sway,
And ever drives each fainting wretch away.
Yet here, O how beyond a saint's belief,
We've seen the glories of a chine of beef;
Here chimneys smoke, which never smoked before,
And we have dined, where we shall dine no more."
In conclusion we give a vegetarian grace. The first four lines are to be
said before the meal:--
"These fruits do Thou, O Father, bless,
Which Mother Earth to us doth give;
No blood doth stain our feast to day,
In Thee we trust, and peaceful live."
The next is a form of thanksgiving after a vegetarian meal:--
"We thank Thee, Lord, for these Thy fruits,
Which Mother Earth to us doth give;
No blood hath stained our feast to-day,
In Thee we trust, and peaceful live!"
Poetry on Panes.
In a variety of places, but more especially in old village inns,
reflections in verse, good, bad, and indifferent, have been found
scratched upon window-panes. We have carefully copied the best examples
which have come under our notice, and present a batch herewith, believing
that they may entertain our readers.
A genial old Yorkshire parson appears at the commencement of the present
century to have been greatly pleased with an inn situated between
Northallerton and Boroughbridge, for he visited it daily to enjoy his pipe
and glass. On one of its window-panes he inscribed some lines, of which
the following is a literal copy:--
"Here in my wicker chair I sitt,
From folly far, and far from witt,
Content to live, devoid of care,
With country folks and country fare;
To listen to my landlord's tale,
And drink his health in Yorkshire ale;
Then smoak and read the _York Courant_;
I'm happy and 'tis all I want.
Though few my tythes, and light my purse,
I thank my God it is no worse."
Here is another Yorkshire example, written towards the close of the last
century; it is from an old wayside inn near Harewood-bridge, on the Leeds
and Harrogate road:--
"Gaily I lived, as Ease and Nature taught,
And passed my little Life without a thought;
I wonder, then, why Death, that tyrant grim,
Should think of me, who never thought of him."
Under the foregoing, the following was written:
"Ah! why forget that Death should think of thee;
If thou art Mortal, such must surely be;
Then rouse up reason, view thy hast'ning end,
And lose no time to make God thy Friend."
In the old coaching days, the Dog and Doublet, at Sandon, Staffordshire,
was a popular house. A guest wrote on one of its window panes the
following recommendation:--
"Most travellers to whom these roads are known,
Would rather stay at Sandon than at Stone!
Good chaises, horses, treatment, and good wines,
They always meet with at James Ballantine's."
A penniless poet wrote on a tavern window-pane the lines:--
"O Chalk! to me, and to the poor, a friend,
On Thee my life and happiness depend;
On Thee with joy, with gratitude I think,
For, by thy bounty, I both eat and drink."
"Chalk" is a slang word for credit. Innkeepers kept their accounts on the
back of a door, written with chalk.
The following epigram was written under a pane disfigured with
autographs:--
"Should you ever chance to see,
A man's name writ on a glass,
Be sure he owns a diamond,
And his parent owns an ass."
On the accession of Her Majesty, this _jeu d'esprit_ was inscribed on an
inn window:--
"The Queen's with us, the Whigs exulting say;
For when she found us in, she let us stay.
It may be so; but give me leave to doubt
How long she'll keep you when she finds you out."
The following lines dated 1793, were written on a window-pane at the Hotel
des Pays Bas, Spa Belgium:--
"I love but one, and only one,
Ah, Damon, thou art he!
Love thou but one, and only one,
And let that one be me!"
Early in the present century, it was customary for the actors to write
their names on the panes in one of the windows of the York Theatre. On the
glass of the same window were found inscribed these lines.
"The rich man's name embellished stands on brass;
The player simply scribbles his on glass,
Appropriate tablet to the wayward fate--
A brittle shining, evanescent state:
The fragile glass destroyed--farewell the name;
The actor's glass consumed--farewell his fame."
Our next example, dated 1834, from Purwell Hall, Batley, Yorkshire, was
composed by a Miss Taylor. It is generally believed that her heart was won
by a lover who did not meet with the approbation of her friends, and that
they made her prisoner in one of the rooms of the old Hall, and there, on
a pane of glass, were written the lines which follow:--
"Come, gentle Muse, wont to divert
Corroding cares from anxious heart;
Adjust me now to bear the smart
Of a relenting angry heart.
What though no being I have on earth,
Though near the place that gave me birth,
And kindred less regard do pay
Than thy acquaintance of to-day:
Know what the best of men declare,
That they on earth but strangers are,
Nor matter it a few years hence
How fortune did to thee dispense,
If--in a palace thou hast dwelt,
Or--in a cell of penury felt--
Ruled as a prince--served as a slave,
Six feet of earth is all thou'lt have.
Hence give my thoughts a nobler theme,
Since all the world is but a dream
Of short endurance."
Robert Burns wrote several lines on tavern windows. On a pane of glass at
the Queensberry Arms, Sanquhar, he inscribed the following.
"Ye gods! ye gave to me a wife
Out of your grace and favour,
To be a comfort to my life;
And I was glad to have her.
But if your providence divine
For other ends design her,
To obey your will at any time,
I'm ready to resign her."
Next may be quoted:--
"Envy, if thy jaundiced eye
Through this window chance to pry,
To thy sorrow, thou wilt find
All that's generous, all that's kind:
Virtue, friendship, every grace
Dwelling in this happy place."
Burns's lines written on the window-panes of the Globe Tavern, Dumfries,
have frequently been quoted. The following inscription refers to the
charms of the daughter of the factor of Closeburn estate, when the poet
resided at Ellisland:--
"O lovely Polly Stewart,
O charming Polly Stewart,
There's not a flower that blooms in May,
That's half so fair as thou art."
In some editions of the poet's works, the following verse, stated to have
been copied from a window of the same tavern, is given:--
"The graybeard, Old Wisdom, may boast of his treasures;
Grant me with gay Folly to live;
I grant him his calm-blooded, time settled pleasures;
But Folly has raptures to give."
Such are a few of the many rhymes scratched upon glass. Some of the panes
on which they were inscribed may now be broken, and this may be the only
means of preserving them.
English Folk-Rhymes.
English folk-rhymes are very numerous and curious. Characteristics of
persons and places have given rise to not a few which are frequently far
from complimentary. Weather-lore is often expressed in rhyme; the rustic
muse has besides rendered historic events popular, and enabled persons to
remember them who are not readers of books. The lines often lack polish,
but are seldom without point.
Amongst the more ancient rhymes are those respecting grants of land. The
following is a good example, and is from Derbyshire:--
"Me and mine
Give thee and thine
Millners Hay
And Shining Cliff,
While grass is green
And hollies rough."
The old story of the grant is thus related. Years ago, a member of the
ancient family of Lowe had the honour of hunting with the king and his
nobles. Lowe rode a splendid horse, the only one in at the death. The
king admired the animal very much, and the owner presented it to His
Majesty. The horse "mightily pleased the king." Some little time
afterwards, Lowe waited upon the king to beg a brier bed and a
watering-place, which were Shining Cliff and Millners Hay. The request was
at once complied with. The tale does not end here. It is related that "an
envious courtier told the king that he did not know what he was doing, for
what he was giving away was a great wood with a large tract of land." Upon
this, Lowe said to His Majesty: "King or no king?"--"Why, king, Lowe."
Adding with prompitude: "The brier-bed and watering-place are thine:" the
rhyme above quoted being given as the title for the grant.
It is asserted that Athelstan granted the first charter to the ancient
borough of Hedon, Yorkshire, in these words:--
"As free make I thee
As eye see or ear hear."
It is said a similar charter was granted by the same king to the
neighbouring town of Beverley.
An old, old Norfolk rhyme says:--
"Rising was a seaport town,
And Lynn it was a wash;
But now Lynn is a seaport town,
And Rising fares the worst."
It is said at Norwich:--
"Caistor was a city ere Norwich was none,
And Norwich was built of Caistor stone."
"About half-way between Curbar and Brompton, to the right of the turnpike
leading from Barlow to Sheffield," writes William Wood, "there is, far on
the moor, a very level flat piece of ground, near a mile square, most
remarkable for its boggy nature, so much so that it is dangerous to cross,
or at times to approach. Here, before the Roman invasion, says the legend,
stood a town or village, the inhabitants of which lived, according to
Diodorus Siculus, in small cots or huts built of wood, the walls of stakes
or wattles, like hurdles, and covered with rushes or reeds. These
dwellings, with their inhabitants, were swallowed up by one of those
convulsions of nature so destructive at times to the habitations of
mankind." Respecting Leechfield and Chesterfield are the following lines
current in Derbyshire:--
"When Leechfield was a market town,
Chesterfield was gorse and broom;
Now Chesterfield's a market town,
Leechfield a marsh is grown."
Respecting Nertoun, a Somersetshire village, near Taunton, is this
couplet:--
"Nertoun was a market-town
When Taunton was a furzy down."
A Scottish rhyme says:--
"York was, London is,
And Edinburgh will be
The biggest of the three."
Says a popular English rhyme:--
"Lincoln was, London is,
And York shall be
The fairest city of the three."
In the days of old it was the practice to allow the wives of the Lord
Mayors of York to retain by courtesy the title Lady for life, and this
custom gave rise to the following couplet:--
"The Lord Mayor's a lord but a year and a day;
But his Lady's a lady for ever and aye."
Few English towns have made greater progress than the thriving port of
Hull. Its prosperity was predicted long ago:--
"When Myton is pulled down,
Hull shall become a great town."
As a matter of history, it may be stated that when the town was threatened
by Charles I., a number of houses in Myton Lane, as well as the
Charter-house, were laid in ruins by Sir John Hotham, governor of Hull,
so that they might not give shelter to the Royalists. Ray refers to this
couplet, and, in error, calls Myton, Dighton.
Selling church-bells has given rise to satirical rhymes. Here are three
Lincolnshire rhymes on this topic:--
"The poor Hatton people
Sold the bells to build up the steeple."
The next says:--
"Owersby's parish,
Wicked people,
Sold their bells to Kelsey
To build a steeple."
It is stated in the third:--
"Poor Scartho people,
Sold their bells to repair the steeple."
About 1710, the spire of Arlesey Church, Bedfordshire, fell down, and it
is believed the bells were broken. The metal was sold to a distant parish
to raise money to rebuild the spire, and until the year 1877 only one
small bell was suspended in the steeple to call the inhabitants to the
house of prayer. The transaction gave rise to the saying:--
"Arlesey, Arlesey, wicked people,
Sold their bells to build their steeple."
About half a century later, a similar accident occurred at Welstead, and
the bishop granted a license to sell three of the bells, to enable the
parishioners with the proceeds to restore the tower. It gave rise to a
taunting distich similar to the one at Arlesey.
On the walls of Newington Church, London, in 1793, was written a rhyme
anent the rebuilding of the church without a steeple and selling the
bells:--
"Pious parson, pious people
Sold the bells to build the steeple;
A very fine trick of the Newington people,
To sell the bells to build a steeple."
Rhymes on steeples are very common; perhaps the best known is the one on
Preston, Lancashire:--
"Proud Preston, poor people,
High church and low steeple."
In a somewhat similar strain is the one on Bowness-on-Windermere:--
"New church and old steeple,
Poor town and proud people."
Lincolnshire rhymes are very numerous, and a complete collection would
almost fill a book. Here are three:--
"Gainsbro' proud people
Built a new church to an old steeple."
According to the next:--
"Luddington poor people
Built a brick church to a stone steeple."
A question is put and answered thus:--
"Boston! Boston!
What hast thou to boast on?
High steeple, proud people,
And shoals that souls are lost on."
The village of Ugley, Essex, supplies a satirical couplet:--
"Ugley church, Ugley steeple,
Ugley parson, Ugley people."
An old triplet describes the characteristics of three church spires
thus:--
"Bloxham for length,
Adderbury for strength,
King-Sutton for beauty."
Almost every district furnishes examples of bell rhymes. We give one
example, and it is from Derbyshire:--
"Crich two roller-boulders,
Winfield ting-tangs,
Alfreton kettles,
And Pentrich pans,
Kirk-Hallam candlesticks,
Cossall cow-bells,
Denby cracked puncheons,
And Horsley merry bells."
It is very generally believed in Derbyshire that the town of Alfreton was
once the stake at a game of cards--"put," and that the loser exclaimed on
the cards being dealt out:--
"If I have not an ace, a deuce, and tray,
Farewell, Alfreton, for ever and aye."
There is a similar couplet respecting Carnfield Hall, near to Alfreton. It
is related by Mr. E. Kirk, a Lancashire folk-lorist, that the owner of a
large farm in Goosnargh, called Landscales, staked his land at a game of
"put." He received his three cards, which were a tray, a deuce, and an
ace, and he put--that is, struck the table with his fist, in proof of his
resolution to abide by the issue of his cards. His opponent had two trays
and a deuce. The farm was consequently lost, and its owner exclaimed:--
"Ace, deuce, and tray,
Landscales, go thy way."
A Derbyshire rhyme refers to the inhabitants of four places as follows:--
"Ripley ruffians,
Butterly blocks,
Swanwick bulldogs,
Alfreton shacks."
Equally severe is the following on the people of the villages between
Norwich and Yarmouth:--
"Halvergate hares, Reedham rats,
Southwood swine, and Cantley cats,
Acle asses, Moulton mules,
Beighton bears, and Freethorpe fools."
Of Derbyshire folk it is said:--
"Derbyshire born and Derbyshire bred,
Strong in the arm, but weak in the head."
The next are two Kentish rhymes:--
"Sutton for mutton
Kerby for beef,
South Darve for gingerbread,
Dartford for a thief."
This is complimentary:--
"English lord, German count, and French marquies,
A yeoman of Kent is worth all three."
It is said of Herefordshire:--
"They who buy a house in Herefordshire
Pay three years' purchase for the air."
Says a Gloucestershire rhyme:--
"Blest is the eye
Betwixt Severn and Wye."
In the same shire is the next couplet:--
"Beggarly Birley, strutting Stroud,
Hampton poor, and Painswick proud."
Many more rhymes similar to the foregoing might be given, if space
permitted; but we have only room for a few more examples, and they relate
to the weather. An old distich says:--
"When clouds are on the hills,
They'll come down by the mills."
Another rhyme states:--
"When the mist comes from the hill,
Then good weather it doth spill.
When the mist comes from the sea,
Then good weather it will be."
In Worcestershire there is a saying:--
"When Bredon Hill puts on his hat,
Ye men of the vale, beware of that."
Says a Yorkshire rhyme:--
"When Oliver's Mount puts on his hat,
Scarbro' town must pay for that."
In the same broad shire is a similar couplet:--
"When Ingleboro' wears a hat,
Ribblesdale'll hear o' that."
The Poetry of Toast Lists and Menu Cards.