by Thomas Hood
LORD HENRY FITZROY, M.A.
THE BISHOP OF EXETER.
WILLIAM HARRY EDWARD BENTINCK, M.A.
JAMES WEBBER, B.D.
WILLIAM SHORT, D.D.
JAMES TOURNAY, D.D.
ANDREW BELL, D.D.
GEORGE HOLCOMBE, D.D.
THE DEAN AND
CHAPTER OF WESTMINSTER.
‘Sure the Guardians of the Temple can never think they get enough.’ — Citizen of the World.
1
OH, very reverend Dean and Chapter,
Exhibitors of giant men,
Hail to each surplice-back’d adapter
Of England’s dead, in her stone den!
Ye teach us properly to prize
Two-shilling Grays, and Gays, and
Handels,
And, to throw light upon our eyes,
Deal in Wax Queens like old wax candles.
2
Oh, reverend showmen, rank and file,
Call in your shillings, two and two;
March with them up the middle aisle,
And cloister them from public view.
Yours surely are the dusty dead,
Gladly ye look from bust to bust,
Setting a price on each great head,
To make it come down with the dust.
3
Oh, as I see you walk along
In ample sleeves and ample back,
A pursy and well-ordered throng,
Thoroughly fed, thoroughly black!
In vain I strive me to be dumb, —
You keep each bard like fatted kid,
Grind bones for bread like Fee faw fum!
And drink from skulls as Byron did!
4
The profitable Abbey is
A sacred’Change for stony stock,
Not that a speculation ’tis —
The profit’s founded on a rock.
Death and the Doctors, in each nave
Bony investments have inurn’d!
And hard ’twould be to find a grave
From which ‘no moneyis return’d!’
5
Here many a pensive pilgrim, brought
By reverence for those learned bones,
Shall often come and walk your short
Two-shilling farelupon the stones. —
Ye have that talisman of Wealth,
Which puddling chemists sought of old
Till ruin’d out of hope and health —
The Tomb’s the stone that turns to gold!
6
Oh, licens’d cannibals, ye eat
Your dinners from your own dead race,
Think Gray, preserv’d, a ‘funeral meat,’
And Dryden, devil’d, — after grace,
A relish; — and you take your meal
From Rare Ben Jonson underdone,
Or, whet your holy knives on Steele,
To cut away at Addison!
7
O say, of all this famous age,
Whose learned bones your hopes expect,
Oh have ye number’d Rydal’s sage,
Or Moore among your Ghosts elect?
Lord Byron was not doom’d to make
You richer by his final sleep —
Why don’t ye warn the Great to take
Their ashes to no other heap?
8
Southey’s reversion have ye got?
With Coleridge, for his body, made
A bargain? — has Sir Walter Scott,
Like Peter Schlemihl, sold his shade?
Has Rogers haggled hard, or sold
His features for your marble shows,
Or Campbell barter’d, ere he’s cold,
All interest in his ‘bone repose’?
9
Rare is your show, ye righteous men!
Priestly Politos, — rare, I ween;
But should ye not outside the Den
Paint up what in it may be seen?
A long green Shakspeare, with a deer
Grasp’d in the many folds it died in, —
A Butler stuff’d from ear to ear,
Wet White Bears weeping o’er a
Dry-den!
10
Paint Garrick up like Mr. Paap,
A Giant of some inches high;
Paint Handel up, that organ chap,
With you, as grinders, in his eye;
Depict some plaintive antique thing
And say th’ original may be seen; —
Blind Milton with a dog and string
May be the Beggar o’ Bethnal
Green!
11
Put up in Poets’ Corner, near
The little door, a platform small;
Get there a monkey — never fear,
You’ll catch the gapers, one and all!
Stand each of ye a Body Guard,
A Trumpet under either fin,
And yell away in Palace Yard
‘All dead! All dead! Walk in!
Walk in!’
12
(But when the people are inside,
Their money paid — I pray you, bid
The keepers not to mount and ride
A race around each coffin lid. —
Poor Mrs. Bodkin thought last year,
That it was hard — the woman clacks —
To have so little in her ear —
And be so hurried through the
Wax! — )
13
‘Walk in! two shillings only! come!
Be not by country grumblers funked!
Walk in, and see th’ illustrious dumb!
The Cheapest House for the defunct!’
Write up, ‘twill breed some just reflection,
And every rude surmise ‘twillstop —
Write up, that you have no connection
(In large) — with any other shop!
14
And, still to catch the Clowns the more,
With samples of your shows in Wax,
Set some old Harry near the door
To answer queries with his axe. —
Put up some general begging-trunk —
Since the last broke by some mishap,
You’ve all a bit of General Monk,
From the respect you bore his Cap!
LINES TO MISS F. KEMBLE
ON THE FLOWER SCUFFLE AT COVENT GARDEN THEATRE
BY CURL-PATED HUGH
[These lines immediately followed ‘Miss Fanny’s Farewell Flowers’ (see p. 450 and
notes) in the ‘Athenaeum.’]
Make a scramble, gentlemen — make a scramble.’ — Boys at Greenwich.
WELL — this flower-strewing I must say is sweet
And I long, Miss Kemble, to throw myself considerably at your feet;
For you’ve made me a happy man in the scuffle when you jerk’d about the daisies;
And ever since the night you kiss’d your hand to me and the rest of the pit,
I’ve been chuck full of your praises!
I’m no hand at writing, (though I can say several things that’s handsome);
But that ignorance, thank my stars! got me off, when I was tried for forging upon Ransom.
I didn’t try to get the flowers, which so many of your ardent admirers were eager to snatch;
But I got a very good going chronometer, and for your sake I’ll never part with the watch!
I’ve several relics from those who got your relics — a snuff-box, a gold snap;
A silver guard and trimmings, from a very eager young chap;
Two coat flaps with linings, from a youth, who, defying blows,
And oaths, and shoves, was snatching at, and I’m sorry to say, missing, the front rose!
One aspiring youth out of the country rushed at the wreath like a glutton,
But he retired out of the conflict with only a bachelor’s button!
Another in a frenzy fought for the flowers like any thing crazy
But I�
�ve got his shirt pin, and he only got two black eyes and a daisy.
The thought of you makes me rich — Oh, you’re a real friend to the free trade;
You agitate ‘em so, and take their attention off’ — If you’d keep farewelling my fortune’d be made.
Oh! how I shall hate to make white soup of the silver, or part with anything for your sake!
I’ll wear the country gentleman’s brooch, on your account it’s so very pretty a make!
I didn’t get a bud — indeed, I was just at the moment busy about other things:
I wish you’d allow me to show you a choice assortment of rings —
You understand the allusion; but I’m in earnest — that’s what I am;
And though I’m famous a little — domestic happiness is better than all fame!
Well — you’re going over the water — (it may be my turn one of these days);
Never heed what them foreigners, the Americans, says!
But hoard your heart up till you come back, and if I luckily can
Scrape up enough, you shall find me yours, and a very altered young man!
The Poems
Dundee, Scotland — as a youngster Hood suffered from ill-health and was sent to his father’s relations at Dundee. There he made a number of close friends with whom he continued to correspond for many years. He led a healthy outdoor life and also became a wide and indiscriminate reader. During his time in Scotland, Hood began seriously to write poetry and appeared in print for the first time, with a letter to the editor of the Dundee Advertiser.
LIST OF POEMS IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER
ODES AND ADDRESSES TO GREAT PEOPLE (1825)
ODE TO MR. GRAHAM, THE AERONAUT.
A FRIENDLY ADDRESS TO MRS. FRY IN NEWGATE.
ODE TO RICHARD MARTIN, ESQ.,
M.P. FOR GALWAY.
ODE TO THE GREAT UNKNOWN.
ODE TO JOSEPH GRIMALDI, SENIOR.
AN ADDRESS TO THE STEAM WASHING COMPANY.
LETTER OF REMONSTRANCE
ODE TO CAPTAIN PARRY
ODE TO W. KITCHENER, M.D.
ODE TO H. BODKIN, ESQ.
ADDRESS TO MARIA DARLINGTON ON HER RETURN TO THE STAGE.
WHIMS AND ODDITIES. FIRST SERIES (1826)
DEDICATION TO THE REVIEWERS.
MORAL REFLECTIONS ON THE CROSS OF ST. PAUL’S.
A VALENTINE.
LOVE.
A RECIPE FOR CIVILIZATION.
THE LAST MAN.
FAITHLESS SALLY BROWN.
BACKING THE FAVOURITE.
THE MERMAID OF MARGATE.
AS IT FELL UPON A DAY
A FAIRY TALE.
THE FALL OF THE DEER.
DECEMBER AND MAY.
A WINTER NOSEGAY.
EQUESTRIAN COURTSHIP.
SHE IS FAR FROM THE LAND.
THE STAG-EYED LADY.
THE WATER PERI’S SONG.
REMONSTRATORY ODE, FROM THE ELEPHANT AT EXETER CHANGE, TO MR. MATHEWS AT THE ENGLISH OPERA-HOUSE.
THE IRISH SCHOOLMASTER.
THE SEA SPELL.
FAITHLESS NELLY GRAY.
WHIMS AND ODDITIES. SECOND SERIES (1827)
BIANCA’S DREAM.
MARY’S GHOST.
THE PROGRESS OF ART.
A LEGEND OF NAVARRE.
THE DEMON-SHIP.
A TRUE STORY.
TIM TURPIN.
THE MONKEY-MARTYR.
DEATH’S RAMBLE.
CRANIOLOGY.
A PARTHIAN GLANCE.
A SAILOR’S APOLOGY FOR BOW-LEGS.
JACK HALL.
THE WEE MAN.
A BUTCHER.
DON’T YOU SMELL FIRE?
THE VOLUNTEER.
THE WIDOW.
JOHN TROT.
ODE TO THE CAMELEOPARD.
THE PLEA OF THE MIDSUMMER FAIRIES, HERO AND LEANDER, LYCUS THE CENTAUR, AND OTHER POEMS (1827)
THE PLEA OF THE MIDSUMMER FAIRIES.
HERO AND LEANDER.
LYCUS THE CENTAUR.
THE TWO PEACOCKS OF BEDFONT.
MINOR POEMS.
A RETROSPECTIVE REVIEW.
FAIR INES.
THE DEPARTURE OF SUMMER.
SONG: A LAKE AND A FAIRY BOAT
ODE.
BALLAD. SPRING IT IS CHEERY.
HYMN TO THE SUN.
TO A COLD BEAUTY.
AUTUMN
RUTH.
THE SEA OF DEATH.
BALLAD. SHE’S UP AND GONE, THE GRACELESS GIRL.
I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER.
BALLAD. SIGH ON, SAD HEART.
THE WATER LADY.
THE EXILE.
TO AN ABSENTEE.
SONG. THE STARS ARE WITH THE VOYAGER.
ODE TO THE MOON.
TO ——
THE FORSAKEN.
AUTUMN.
ODE TO MELANCHOLY.
SONNETS.
ON MISTRESS NICELY, A PATTERN FOR HOUSEKEEPERS.
SONNET. WRITTEN IN A VOLUME OF SHAKSPEARE.
TO FANCY.
TO AN ENTHUSIAST.
DEATH.
SONNET. BY EV’RY SWEET TRADITION OF TRUE HEARTS.
ON RECEIVING A GIFT.
SONNET TO MY WIFE.
SONNET. LOVE, DEAREST LADY, SUCH AS I WOULD SPEAK,
SILENCE.
THE EPPING HUNT (1829)
ADVERTISEMENT.
THE EPPING HUNT.
MORAL.
COMIC MELODIES (1830)
LIEUTENANT LUFF.
THE SHIP LAUNCH
GOG AND MAGOG
VALENTINE’S DAY
LOVE HAS NOT EYES
THE LORD MAYOR’S SHOW
THE DREAM OF EUGENE ARAM, THE MURDERER
THE DREAM OF EUGENE ARAM.
VERSES FROM TYLNEY HALL (1834)
PLAY ON, YE TIMID RABBITS
A DECLARATION
THE STREAMLET
TOM TATTERS’ BIRTHDAY ODE
HOOD’S OWN: OR, LAUGHTER YEAR TO YEAR (1839)
AN ANCIENT CONCERT
SONNET ON STEAM
A REPORT FROM BELOW
ODE TO M. BRUNEL
OVER THE WAY
A NOCTURNAL SKETCH
DOMESTIC ASIDES; OR,TRUTH IN PARENTHESES
EPIGRAMS COMPOSED ON READING A DIARY LATELY PUBLISHED
THE LAST WISH
THE DEVIL’S ALBUM
THE LOST HEIR
JOHN DAY
NUMBER ONE
THE DROWNING DUCKS
SALLY SIMPKIN’S LAMENT
THE FALL
SONNET: ALONG THE WOODFORD ROAD THERE COMES A NOISE
THE STEAM SERVICE
A LAY OF REAL LIFE
A VALENTINE
POEM, — FROM THE POLISH
CONVEYANCING
SONNET. I HAD A GIG-HORSE
EPICUREAN REMINISCENCES OF A SENTIMENTALIST
I’M NOT A SINGLE MAN
THE BURNING OF THE LOVE-LETTER
THE APPARITION
LITTLE O’P. — AN AFRICAN FACT
THE ANGLER’S FAREWELL
SEA SONG
STANZAS ON COMING OF AGE
A SINGULAR EXHIBITION AT SOMERSET HOUSE
I’M GOING TO BOMBAY
ODE TO THE ADVOCATES FOR THE REMOVAL OF SMITHFIELD MARKET
ODE FOR ST. CECILIA’S EVE
A BLOW-UP
THE GHOST
ODE TO MADAME HENGLER
THE DOUBLE KNOCK
BAILEY BALLADS
LINES TO MARY
NO. II
NO. III
FRENCH AND ENGLISH
OUR VILLAGE. — BY A VILLAGER
A TRUE STORY
THE CARELESSE NURSE MAYD
TO FANNY
POEMS, BY A POOR GENTLEMAN
STANZAS WRITTEN UNDER THE FEAR OF BAILIFFS
SONNET WRITTEN IN A WORKHOUSE
SONNET. — A SOMNAMBULIST
FUGITIVE LINES ON PAWNING MY WATCH
THE COMPASS, WITH VAR
IATIONS
PAIR’D, NOT MATCH’D
THE DUEL. A SERIOUS BALLAD
SONNET TO VAUXHALL
ODE TO MR. MALTHUS
A GOOD DIRECTION
THERE’S NO ROMANCE IN THAT
A WATERLOO BALLAD
SHOOTING PAINS
THE BOY AT THE NORE
LITTLE BOY AT THE NORE LOQUITUR
ODE TO ST. SWITHIN
THE SCHOOLMASTER’S MOTTO
THE SUPPER SUPERSTITION
A STORM AT HASTINGS
LINES TO A LADY ON HER DEPARTURE FOR INDIA
SONNET TO A SCOTCH GIRL, WASHING LINEN AFTER HER COUNTRY FASHION
SONNET TO A DECAYED SEAMAN
HUGGINS AND DUGGINS
DOMESTIC DIDACTICS BY AN OLD SERVANT
ODE TO PEACE
A FEW LINES ON COMPLETING FORTY-SEVEN
TO MARY HOUSEMAID
PAIN IN A PLEASURE-BOAT
LITERARY AND LITERAL
LOVE LAYS AND LYRICS
SONNET TO LORD WHARNCLIFFE, ON HIS GAME BILL
LITERARY REMINISCENCES
ODE TO PERRY, THE INVENTOR OF THE PATENT PERRYAN PEN
THE UNDYING ONE
COCKLE v. CACKLE
THE SWEEP’S COMPLAINT
THE SUB-MARINE
DOG-GREL VERSES, BY A POOR BLIND
THE KANGAROOS
ODE FOR THE NINTH OF NOVEMBER
SONNET. THE SKY IS GLOWING IN ONE RUDDY SHEET
RONDEAU
SYMPTOMS OF OSSIFICATION
THE POACHER
I CANNOT BEAR A GUN
TRIMMER’S EXERCISE FOR THE USE OF CHILDREN
THE FOX AND THE HEN
THE COMET AN ASTRONOMICAL ANECDOTE
LOVE AND LUNACY
THOSE EVENING BELLS
LINES TO A FRIEND AT COBHAM
THE QUAKERS’ CONVERSAZIONE
LINES ON THE CELEBRATION OF PEACE
THE LAMENT OF TOBY, THE LEARNED PIG
TO A BAD RIDER
MY SON AND HEIR
POEMS FROM ‘UP THE RHINE’ (1840)
TO* * * * *
YE TOURISTS AND TRAVELLERS
TO* * * * * WITH A FLASK OF RHINE WATER
THE ROMANCE OF COLOGNE
EPIGRAM
THE KNIGHT AND THE DRAGON
OUR LADY’S CHAPEL
LOVE LANGUAGE OF A MERRY YOUNG SOLDIER
WHIMSICALITIES: A PERIODICAL GATHERING (1844)
ANACREONTIC FOR THE NEW YEAR.