Not a woman discharged her farewell groan,
On the spot where the fellow was married.
An anonymous parodist opened “The Burial of the Bachelor” this way:
Not a laugh was heard, not a frivolous note,
As the groom to the wedding we carried;
Not a jester discharged his farewell shot
As the bachelor went to be married.
Sir Robert Ball, the Irish Astronomer Royal, found an historical error in the second stanza of Wolfe’s poem. It seems there could not have been any misty light from the moon because it had long set before the burial took place.
So well known was the poem, observed William Harmon, that Thoreau quoted its first stanza, in his famous essay on civil disobedience, without identifying the poem or its author.
The Burial of Sir John Moore
Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note,
As his corse to the ramparts we hurried;
Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot
O’er the grave where our hero we buried.
We buried him darkly, at dead of night,
The sods with our bayonets turning,
By the struggling moonbeam’s misty light,
And the lantern dimly burning.
No useless coffin enclosed his breast,
Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him;
But he lay like a warrior taking his rest,
With his martial cloak around him.
Few and short were the prayers we said,
And we spoke not a word of sorrow;
But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead,
And we bitterly thought of the morrow.
We thought as we hollow’d his narrow bed,
And smoothed down his lonely pillow,
That the foe and the stranger would tread o’er his head,
And we far away on the billow!
Lightly they’ll talk of the spirit that’s gone,
And o’er his cold ashes upbraid him;
But little he’ll reck if they let him sleep on,
In the grave where a Briton has laid him.
But half of our heavy task was done,
When the clock struck the hour for retiring,
And we heard the distant and random gun
That the foe was sullenly firing.
Slowly and sadly we laid him down,
From the field of his fame fresh and gory;
We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone,
But we left him alone in his glory.
HENRY CLAY WORK
(1832—1884)
“GRANDFATHER’S CLOCK” may be a bit out of place here because it is a song whose words and music were both written by Work. I include it because its lyrics appeared in so many pre-1900 collections of popular verse.
Work was born in Middletown, Connecticut, and raised in Quincy, Illinois. When his family moved back to Middletown, young Work learned the printing trade and taught himself music. He worked in Chicago as a printer from 1854 until his numerous Union songs of the Civil War brought him fame. They include “Grafted into the Army,” “Kingdom Coming,” “Babylon Is Fallen” and “Marching through Georgia,” a song celebrating Major General William Sherman’s famous march to Savannah. Among his temperance songs, the most frequently sung was about a drunk that begins, “Father, dear father, come home with me now.” It, too, turns up in many nineteenth-century verse anthologies.
“Grandfather’s Clock,” Work’s most successful non-war song, was published in 1876 and first sung in a minstrel show. His nephew, Bertram G. Work, gathered his uncle’s songs into a book titled The Songs of Henry Clay Work (c. 1885), which had many later editions.
Grandfather’s Clock
My grandfather’s clock was too large for the shelf,
So it stood ninety years on the floor;
It was taller by half than the old man himself,
Though it weighed not a pennyweight more.
It was bought on the morn of the day that he was born
And was always his treasure and pride.
But it stopped short—never to go again—
When the old man died.
Ninety years without slumbering
Tick, tick, tick, tick.
His life-seconds numbering
Tick, tick, tick, tick.
It stopped short—never to go again—
When the old man died.
In watching its pendulum swing to and fro
Many hours had he spent while a boy;
And in childhood and manhood the clock seemed to know
And to share both his grief and his joy,
For it struck twenty-four when he entered the door
With a blooming and beautiful bride,
But it stopped short—never to go again—
When the old man died.
My grandfather said of those he could hire,
Not a servant so faithful he found,
For it wasted no time and had but one desire—
At the close of each week to be wound.
And it kept in its place—not a frown upon its face,
And its hands never hung by its side;
But it stopped short—never to go again—
When the old man died.
It rang an alarm in the dead of night—
An alarm that for years had been dumb.
And we knew that his spirit was pluming for flight
That his hour for departure had come.
Still the clock kept the time with a soft and muffled chime
As we silently stood by his side;
But it stopped short—never to go again—
When the old man died.
ALPHABETICAL LIST OF TITLES
Ah Sin’s Reply
America for Me
Asleep at the Switch
Ballad of Yukon Jake, The
Barbara Frietchie
Beautiful Snow
Ben Bolt
Ben Bolt’s Grave
Ben Bolt’s Reply
Best Road of All, The
Blue and the Gray, The (Francis Miles Finch)
Blue and the Gray, The (Anonymous)
Blue and the Gray, The (Anonymous)
Boy to the Schoolmaster, The
Burial of Sir John Moore, The
Chambered Nautilus, The
Cry of the Dreamer, The
Darius Green and His Flying-Machine
Dream Within a Dream, A
Each in His Own Tongue
Eternal Goodness, The
Face on the Barroom Floor, The
Fool’s Prayer, The
Glove and the Lions, The
Golf Links, The
Grandfather’s Clock
Green Eye of the Little Yellow God, The
Grumbling Old Woman, The
Guilty or Not Guilty
Hand That Rocks the Cradle, The
Hell-Bound Train, The
Her Last Letter
Her Letter
His Answer
How Did You Die?
If All the Skies
If I Should Die To-night (by Arabella Eugenie Smith)
If I Should Die To-night (by Ben King)
I Remember, I Remember
I Saw God Wash the World
Jim Bludso of the Prairie Bell
Keep a-Goin!
Kiss in the Rain, A
Leadville Jim
Lesson of the Water-Mill, The
Life on the Ocean Wave, A
Lips That Touch Liquor Must Never Touch Mine
Lips That Touch Liquor Shall Never Touch Mine
Little Red God, The
Little Things
Love-Knot, The
Memory
My Garden (by J. A. Lindon)
My Garden (by Thomas Edward Brown)
Night’s Mardi Gras
Nobody’s Child
Nothing to Wear
Oh! Why Should the Spirit of Mortal
Be Proud?
Old Clock on the Stairs, The
Opportunity
Organist, The
Out to Old Aunt Mary’s
Over the Hill from the Poor-House
Over the Hill to the Poor-House
Owl-Critic, The
Petra
Plain Language from Truthful James
Prospice
Puzzled Census-Taker, The
Philosopher’s Scales, The
Rain on the Roof
Rainy Day, The
Response to “Beautiful Snow,” A
Rhyme of the Rail
Somebody’s Darling
Somebody’s Mother
Spell of the Yukon, The
Spider and the Fly, The
Stirrup-Cup, The
Sweetes’ Li’l’ Feller
Thanksgiving Day
There Is No Death
There Is No Death (revised version)
Think Gently of the Erring
Twenty Years Ago
Waiting
Wants of Man, The
What My Lover Said
When Mamma Was a Little Girl
ALPHABETICAL LIST OF FIRST LINES
A fire-mist and a planet
A garden is a lovesome thing, God wot!
A garden is a lovesome thing? What rot!
A life on the ocean wave
A monk, when his rites sacerdotal were o’er
Alice Lee stood awaiting her lover one night
Alone in the dreary, pitiless street
Being asked by an intimate party,—
Blessings on the hand of woman!
By the flow of the inland river
By the merest chance, in the twilight gloom
By the side of sweet Alice they have laid Ben Bolt
Cast by the bright wings of a seraph—the snow
Did you tackle that trouble that came your way
Don’t you remember sweet Alice, Ben Bolt,—
Each thin hand resting on a grave
Fear death?—to feel the fog in my throat
“Got any boys?” the marshal said
He came to town one winter day
Here’s a little red song to the god of guts
I am tired of planning and toiling
If all the skies were sunshine
If ever there lived a Yankee lad
If I should die to-night
If I should die to-night
If you strike a thorn or rose
I like a road that leads away to prospects white and fair
I’m sitting alone by the fire
Into a ward of the whitewashed walls
I remember, I remember
I saw God wash the world last night
It seems no work of man’s creative hand
I’ve wander’d to the village, Tom, I’ve sat beneath the tree
I wanted the gold, and I sought it
I wonder how the organist
June 4th! Do you know what that date means?
King Francis was a hearty king, and loved a royal sport
Listen to the water-mill
Little drops of water
“Man wants but little here below”
Miss Flora McFlimsey, of Madison Square
My grandfather’s clock was too large for the shelf
My mind lets go a thousand things
My short and happy day is done
Night is the true democracy. When day
Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note
O Friends! with whom my feet have trod
Oh, the North Countree is a hard countree
Oh! the snow, the beautiful snow
Oh! why should the spirit of mortal be proud?
Oh, yes, I remember her name with delight
“O mother! what do they mean by blue?”
One stormy night I chanced to meet
Over the hill to the poor-house I’m trudgin’ my weary way,—
Over the hill to the poor-house I went, one winter’s day:
Over the river, and through the wood
Serene, I fold my hands and wait
She stood at the bar of justice
Singing through the forests
Somewhat back from the village street
Sweetes’ li’l’ feller
Take this kiss upon the brow!
The day is cold, and dark, and dreary
The first thing that I remember was Carlo tugging away
The golf links lie so near the mill
There is no death! The stars go down
There is no death! The stars go down
There’s a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Khatmandu
There was an old woman, and—what do you think?—
The royal feast was done; the King
The woman was old and ragged and gray
Think gently of the erring
This I beheld, or dreamed it in a dream:—
This is the ship of pearl which, poets feign
‘Tis fine to see the Old World, and travel up and down
Tom Gray lay on the bar room floor
’Twas a balmy summer evening, and a goodly crowd was there
Tying her bonnet under her chin
Up from the meadows rich with corn
Wall, no! I can’t tell whar he lives
Wasn’t it pleasant, O brother mine
When Mamma was a little girl
When the humid shadows hover
Which I wish to remark
Which my name is Ah Sin
“Who stuffed that white owl?” No one spoke in the shop
“Will you walk into my parlor?” said the spider to the fly
You are coming to woo me, but not as of yore
You’ve quizzed me often and puzzled me long
A CATALOG OF SELECTED DOVER BOOKS IN ALL FIELDS OF INTEREST
CONCERNING THE SPIRITUAL IN ART, Wassily Kandinsky. Pioneering work by father of abstract art. Thoughts on color theory, nature of art. Analysis of earlier masters. 12 illustrations. 80pp. of text. 5 x 8½.
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CELTIC ART: The Methods of Construction, George Bain. Simple geometric techniques for making Celtic interlacements, spirals, Kells-type initials, animals, humans, etc. Over 500 illustrations. 160pp. 9 x 12. (USO)
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AN ATLAS OF ANATOMY FOR ARTISTS, Fritz Schider. Most thorough reference work on art anatomy in the world. Hundreds of illustrations, including selections from works by Vesalius, Leonardo, Goya, Ingres, Michelangelo, others. 593 illustrations. 192pp. 7 x 10¼.
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THE COMPLETE BOOK OF BIRDHOUSE CONSTRUCTION FOR WOODWORKERS, Scott D. Campbell. Detailed instructions, illustrations, tables. Also data on bird habitat and instinct patterns. Bibliography. 3 tables. 63 illustrations in 15 figures. 48pp. 5¼ x 8½.
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BLOOMINGDALE’S ILLUSTRATED 1886 CATALOG: Fashions, Dry Goods and Housewares, Bloomingdale Brothers. Famed merchants’ extremely rare catalog depicting about 1,700 products: clothing, ho
usewares, firearms, dry goods, jewelry, more. Invaluable for dating, identifying vintage items. Also, copyright-free graphics for artists, designers. Co-published with Henry Ford Museum & Greenfield Village. 160pp. 8¼ 11.
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HISTORIC COSTUME IN PICTURES, Braun & Schneider. Over 1,450 costumed figures in clearly detailed engravings—from dawn of civilization to end of 19th century. Captions. Many folk costumes. 256pp. 8 x 11¾.
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STICKLEY CRAFTSMAN FURNITURE CATALOGS, Gustav Stickley and L. & J. G. Stickley. Beautiful, functional furniture in two authentic catalogs from 1910. 594 illustrations, including 277 photos, show settles, rockers, armchairs, reclining chairs, bookcases, desks, tables. 183pp. 6½ 9¼.
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AMERICAN LOCOMOTIVES IN HISTORIC PHOTOGRAPHS: 1858 to 1949, Ron Ziel (ed.). A rare collection of 126 meticulously detailed official photographs, called “builder portraits,” of American locomotives that majestically chronicle the rise of steam locomotive power in America. Introduction. Detailed captions. xi + 129pp. 9 x 12.
27393-8 Pa. $12.95
AMERICA’S LIGHTHOUSES: An Illustrated History, Francis Ross Holland, Jr. Delightfully written, profusely illustrated fact-filled survey of over 200 American lighthouses since 1716. History, anecdotes, technological advances, more. 240pp. 8 10¾.
25576-X Pa. $11.95
TOWARDS A NEW ARCHITECTURE, Le Corbusier. Pioneering manifesto by founder of “International School.” Technical and aesthetic theories, views of industry, economics, relation of form to function, “mass-production split” and much more. Profusely illustrated. 320pp. 6 x 9¼. (USO)
25023-7 Pa. $8.95
HOW THE OTHER HALF LIVES, Jacob Riis. Famous journalistic record, exposing poverty and degradation of New York slums around 1900, by major social reformer. 100 striking and influential photographs. 233pp. 10 7.
Famous Poems from Bygone Days Page 21