We are sorry the time flits away.
[“No sooner does the sun appear”]
No sooner does the sun appear
From out the vapours hazy
Than, first bright offerings to the year,
Expands the little Daisy.
Sweet, all sweets above,
Is a Mother’s love,
Deep as death her love
Even for a Daisy.
Going a-shrimping
Pretty little legs
Paddling in the waters,
Knees, as smooth as eggs,
Belonging to my daughters.
[“Breathes there the man with soul so dead”]
Breathes there the man with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
“I’ll build a studio!
And every day for evermore
I’ll photograph my children four
All sitting in a row!”
Ode addressed to a Young Lady
who expressed a Wish for a recent photograph of the Poet
“How deftly you flatter!
Yet what can it matter
Whether former or latter?
Whether thinner or fatter?
Whether dumpish as batter,
Or mad as a Hatter?
But a truce to this chatter!
My verses I scatter
Like ——”
Here the poem broke down, and remains an exquisite fragment: the Poet not being handy in Similes.
Who Killed Cock Robin?
Who caused the Boer rebellion?
“I”, said the people’s Willy,
“With my speeches all so silly:
I caused the Boer Rebellion”.
Who sent out reinforcements?
“I”, said Childers, blandly:
“And I did it very grandly:
I sent out reinforcements”.
Who advised surrender!
[10] “I”, said Quaker Bright:
“For I never meant to fight:
I advised surrender”.
Who went out to lead them?
“I”, said Roberts of Cabul:
“And was made an April-fool:
I went out to lead them”.
Who tried negotiation?
“I”, said Kimberly, sadly:
“And I did it very badly:
[20] I tried negotiation”.
Who signed the treaty?
“I”, said Evelyn Wood,
“This I never thought I could.
I signed the treaty”.
Who spoke up against it?
“I”, said Cairns, profoundly:
“And I gave it to them roundly:
I spoke up against it”.
Who said ’twas honourable?
[30] “I”, said Selbourne glib,
“Though I knew it was a fib.
I said ’twas honourable”.
Who cried “Shame”! upon it?
“We”, said Whig and Tory,
“Who care for England’s glory:
We cried ‘Shame!’ upon it”.
Who approved it strongly?
“We”, say all the Rads
And the mean-spirited cads.
[40] “We approve it strongly”.
Who will pay the piper?
“I”, says poor John Bull:
“For, whoever plays the fool,
I always pay the piper!”
“Sylvie and Bruno” (1889) and “Sylvie and Bruno Concluded” (1893)
Sylvie and Bruno
[“Who sins in hope, who, sinning, says”]
Who sins in hope, who, sinning, says,
“Sorrow for sin God’s judgement stays!”
Against God’s Spirit he lies; quite stops
Mercy with insult; dares, and drops,
Like a scorch’d fly, that spins in vain
Upon the axis of its pain,
Then takes its doom, to limp and crawl,
Blind and forgot, from fall to fall.
[“Is all our Life, then, but a dream”]
Is all our Life, then, but a dream
Seen faintly in the golden gleam
Athwart Time’s dark resistless stream?
Bowed to the earth with bitter woe,
Or laughing at some raree-show,
We flutter idly to and fro.
Man’s little Day in haste we spend,
And, from its merry noontide, send
No glance to meet the silent end.
[A Beggar’s Palace]
From sackcloth couch the Monk arose,
With toil his stiffen’d limbs he rear’d;
A hundred years had flung their snows
On his thin locks and floating beard.
[The Gardener’s Song]
He thought he saw an Elephant,
That practised on a fife:
He looked again, and found it was
A letter from his wife.
“At length I realise,” he said,
“The bitterness of Life.”
He thought he saw a Buffalo
Upon the chimney-piece:
He looked again, and found it was
[10] His Sister’s Husband’s Niece.
“Unless you leave this house,” he said,
“I’ll send for the Police!”
He thought he saw a Rattlesnake
That questioned him in Greek:
He looked again, and found it was
The Middle of Next Week.
“The one thing I regret,” he said,
“Is that it cannot speak!”
He thought he saw a Banker’s Clerk
[20] Descending from the bus:
He looked again, and found it was
A Hippopotamus:
“If this should stay to dine,” he said,
“There won’t be much for us!”
He thought he saw a Kangaroo
That worked a coffee-mill:
He looked again, and found it was
A Vegetable-Pill.
“Were I to swallow this,” he said,
[30] “I should be very ill!”
He thought he saw a Coach-and-Four
That stood beside his bed:
He looked again, and found it was
A Bear without a Head.
“Poor thing,” he said, “poor silly thing!
It’s waiting to be fed!”
He thought he saw an Albatross
That fluttered round the lamp:
He looked again, and found it was
[40] A Penny-Postage-Stamp.
“You’d best be getting home,” he said:
“The nights are very damp!”
He thought he saw a Garden-Door
That opened with a key:
He looked again, and found it was
A Double Rule of Three:
“And all its mystery,” he said,
“Is clear as day to me!”
He thought he saw an Argument
[50] That proved he was the Pope:
He looked again, and found it was
A Bar of Mottled Soap.
“A fact so dread,” he faintly said,
“Extinguishes all hope!”
The Old Man’s Incantation
Let craft, ambition, spite,
Be quenched in Reason’s night,
Till weakness turn to might,
Till what is dark be light,
Till what is wrong be right!
Peter and Paul
“Peter is poor,” said noble Paul,
“And I have always been his friend:
And, though my means to give are small,
At least I can afford to lend.
How few, in this cold age of greed,
Do good, except on selfish grounds!
But I can feel for Peter’s need,
And I WILL LEND HIM FIFTY POUNDS!”
How great was Peter’s joy to find
[10] His friend in such a genial
vein!
How cheerfully the bond he signed,
To pay the money back again!
“We can’t,” said Paul, “be too precise:
’Tis best to fix the very day:
So, by a learned friend’s advice,
I’ve made it Noon, the Fourth of May.”
“But this is April!” Peter said.
“The First of April, as I think.
Five little weeks will soon be fled:
[20] One scarcely will have time to wink!
Give me a year to speculate –
To buy and sell – to drive a trade –”
Said Paul “I cannot change the date.
On May the Fourth it must be paid.”
“Well, well!” said Peter, with a sigh.
“Hand me the cash, and I will go.
I’ll form a Joint-Stock Company,
And turn an honest pound or so.”
“I’m grieved,” said Paul, “to seem unkind:
[30] The money shall of course be lent:
But, for a week or two, I find
It will not be convenient.”
So, week by week, poor Peter came
And turned in heaviness away;
For still the answer was the same,
“I cannot manage it to-day.”
And now the April showers were dry –
The five short weeks were nearly spent –
Yet still he got the old reply,
[40] “It is not quite convenient!”
The Fourth arrived, and punctual Paul
Came, with his legal friend, at noon.
“I thought it best,” said he, “to call:
One cannot settle things too soon.”
Poor Peter shuddered in despair:
His flowing locks he wildly tore:
And very soon his yellow hair
Was lying all about the floor.
The legal friend was standing by,
[50] With sudden pity half unmanned:
The tear-drop trembled in his eye,
The signed agreement in his hand:
But when at length the legal soul
Resumed its customary force,
“The Law,” he said, “we can’t control:
Pay, or the Law must take its course!”
Said Paul “How bitterly I rue
That fatal morning when I called!
Consider, Peter, what you do!
[60] You won’t be richer when you’re bald!
Think you, by rending curls away,
To make your difficulties less?
Forbear this violence, I pray:
You do but add to my distress!”
“Not willingly would I inflict,”
Said Peter, “on that noble heart
One needless pang. Yet why so strict?
Is this to act a friendly part?
However legal it may be
[70] To pay what never has been lent,
This style of business seems to me
Extremely inconvenient!
“No Nobleness of soul have I,
Like some that in this Age are found!”
(Paul blushed in sheer humility,
And cast his eyes upon the ground.)
“This debt will simply swallow all,
And make my life a life of woe!”
“Nay, nay, my Peter!” answered Paul.
[80] “You must not rail on Fortune so!
“You have enough to eat and drink:
You are respected in the world:
And at the barber’s, as I think,
You often get your whiskers curled.
Though Nobleness you can’t attain –
To any very great extent –
The path of Honesty is plain,
However inconvenient!”
“ ’Tis true,” said Peter, “I’m alive:
[90] I keep my station in the world:
Once in the week I just contrive
To get my whiskers oiled and curled.
But my assets are very low:
My little income’s overspent:
To trench on capital, you know,
Is always inconvenient!”
“But pay your debts!” cried honest Paul.
“My gentle Peter, pay your debts!
What matter if it swallows all
[100] That you describe as your ‘assets’?
Already you’re an hour behind:
Yet Generosity is best.
It pinches me – but never mind!
I WILL NOT CHARGE YOU INTEREST!”
“How good! How great!” poor Peter cried.
“Yet I must sell my Sunday wig –
The scarf-pin that has been my pride –
My grand piano – and my pig!”
Full soon his property took wings:
[110] And daily, as each treasure went,
He sighed to find the state of things
Grow less and less convenient.
Weeks grew to months, and months to years:
Peter was worn to skin and bone:
And once he even said, with tears,
“Remember, Paul, that promised Loan!”
Said Paul “I’ll lend you, when I can,
All the spare money I have got –
Ah, Peter, you’re a happy man!
[120] Yours is an enviable lot!
“I’m getting stout, as you may see:
It is but seldom I am well:
I cannot feel my ancient glee
In listening to the dinner-bell:
But you, you gambol like a boy,
Your figure is so spare and light:
The dinner-bell’s a note of joy
To such a healthy appetite!”
Said Peter “I am well aware
[130] Mine is a state of happiness:
And yet how gladly could I spare
Some of the comforts I possess!
What you call healthy appetite
I feel as Hunger’s savage tooth:
And, when no dinner is in sight,
The dinner-bell’s a sound of ruth!
“No scare-crow would accept this coat:
Such boots as these you seldom see.
Ah, Paul, a single five-pound-note
[140] Would make another man of me!”
Said Paul “It fills me with surprise
To hear you talk in such a tone:
I fear you scarcely realise
The blessings that are all your own!
“You’re safe from being overfed:
You’re sweetly picturesque in rags:
You never know the aching head
That comes along with money-bags:
And you have time to cultivate
[150] That best of qualities, Content –
For which you’ll find your present state
Remarkably convenient!”
Said Peter “Though I cannot sound
The depths of such a man as you,
Yet in your character I’ve found
An inconsistency or two.
You seem to have long years to spare
When there’s a promise to fulfil:
And yet how punctual you were
[160] In calling with that little bill!”
“One can’t be too deliberate,”
Said Paul, “in parting with one’s pelf.
With bills, as you correctly state,
I’m punctuality itself.
A man may surely claim his dues:
But, when there’s money to be lent,
A man must be allowed to choose
Such times as are convenient!”
It chanced one day, as Peter sat
[170] Gnawing a crust – his usual meal –
Paul bustled in to have a chat,
And grasped his hand with friendly zeal.
“I knew,” said he, “your frugal ways:
So, that I might not wound your pride
By bringing strangers in t
o gaze,
I’ve left my legal friend outside!
“You well remember, I am sure,
When first your wealth began to go,
And people sneered at one so poor,
[180] I never used my Peter so!
And when you’d lost your little all,
And found yourself a thing despised,
I need not ask you to recall
How tenderly I sympathised!
“Then the advice I’ve poured on you,
So full of wisdom and of wit:
All given gratis, though ’tis true
I might have fairly charged for it!
But I refrain from mentioning
[190] Full many a deed I might relate –
For boasting is a kind of thing
That I particularly hate.
“How vast the total sum appears
Of all the kindnesses I’ve done,
From Childhood’s half-forgotten years
Down to that Loan of April One!
That Fifty Pounds! You little guessed
How deep it drained my slender store:
But there’s a heart within this breast,
[200] And I WILL LEND YOU FIFTY MORE!”
“Not so,” was Peter’s mild reply,
His cheeks all wet with grateful tears:
“No man recalls, so well as I,
Your services in bygone years:
And this new offer, I admit,
Is very very kindly meant –
Still, to avail myself of it
Would not be quite convenient!”
[“He either fears his fate too much”]
He either fears his fate too much
Or his desert is small,
Who dares not put it to the touch,
To win or lose it all.
Fairies’ Song
Rise, oh, rise! The daylight dies:
The owls are hooting, ting, ting, ting!
Wake, oh, wake! Beside the lake
The elves are fluting, ting, ting, ting!
Welcoming our Fairy King,
We sing, sing, sing.
Hear, oh, hear! From far and near
The music stealing, ting, ting, ting!
Fairy bells adown the dells
[10] Are merrily pealing, ting, ting, ting!
Welcoming our Fairy King,
We ring, ring, ring.
See, oh, see! On every tree
What lamps are shining, ting, ting, ting!
They are eyes of fiery flies
To light our dining, ting, ting, ting!
Welcoming our Fairy King
They swing, swing, swing.
Jabberwocky and Other Nonsense Page 25