Queen Bess was Harry’s daughter. (Stand forward partners all!)
In ruff and stomacher and gown
She danced King Philip down-a-down,
And left her shoe to show ’twas true –
5
(The very tune I’m playing you)
In Norgem at Brickwall!
The Queen was in her chamber, and she was middling old.
Her petticoat was satin, and her stomacher was gold.
Backwards and forwards and sideways did she pass,
10
Making up her mind to face the cruel looking-glass.
The cruel looking-glass that will never show a lass
As comely or as kindly or as young as what she was!
Queen Bess was Harry’s daughter. (Now hand your partners all!)
The Queen was in her chamber, a-combing of her hair.
15
There came Queen Mary’s spirit and It stood behind her chair,
Singing, ‘Backwards and forwards and sideways may you pass,
But I will stand behind you till you face the looking-glass.
The cruel looking-glass that will never show a lass
As lovely or unlucky or as lonely as I was!’
20
Queen Bess was Harry’s daughter. (Now turn your partners all!)
The Queen was in her chamber, a-weeping very sore.
There came Lord Leicester’s spirit and It scratched upon the door,
Singing, ‘Backwards and forwards and sideways may you pass,
But I will walk beside you till you face the looking-glass.
25
The cruel looking-glass that will never show a lass,
As hard and unforgiving or as wicked as you was!’
Queen Bess was Harry’s daughter. (Now kiss your partners all!)
The Queen was in her chamber, her sins were on her head.
She looked the spirits up and down and statelily she said: –
30
‘Backwards and forwards and sideways though I’ve been,
Yet I am Harry’s daughter and I am England’s Queen!’
And she faced the looking-glass (and whatever else there was)
And she saw her day was over and she saw her beauty pass
In the cruel looking-glass, that can always hurt a lass
35
More hard than any ghost there is or any man there was!
The Way through the Woods
They shut the road through the woods
Seventy years ago.
Weather and rain have undone it again,
And now you would never know
5
There was once a road through the woods
Before they planted the trees.
It is underneath the coppice and heath
And the thin anemones.
Only the keeper sees
10
That, where the ring-dove broods,
And the badgers roll at ease,
There was once a road through the woods.
Yet, if you enter the woods
Of a summer evening late,
15
When the night-air cools on the trout-ringed pools
Where the otter whistles his mate,
(They fear not men in the woods,
Because they see so few.)
You will hear the beat of a horse’s feet,
20
And the swish of a skirt in the dew,
Steadily cantering through
The misty solitudes,
As though they perfectly knew
The old lost road through the woods …
25
But there is no road through the woods!
If –
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
5
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;
10
If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
15
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
20
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
25
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings – nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
30
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And – which is more – you’ll be a Man, my son!
‘Poor Honest Men’
Your jar of Virginny
Will cost you a guinea,
Which you reckon too much by five shilling or ten;
But light your churchwarden
5
And judge it accordin’,
When I’ve told you the troubles of poor honest men.
From the Capes of the Delaware,
As you are well aware,
We sail with tobacco for England – but then,
10
Our own British cruisers,
They watch us come through, sirs,
And they press half a score of us poor honest men!
Or if by quick sailing
(Thick weather prevailing)
15
We leave them behind (as we do now and then)
We are sure of a gun from
Each frigate we run from,
Which is often destruction to poor honest men!
Broadsides the Atlantic
20
We tumble short-handed,
With shot-holes to plug and new canvas to bend;
And off the Azores,
Dutch, Dons and Monsieurs
Are waiting to terrify poor honest men.
25
Napoleon’s embargo
Is laid on all cargo
Which comfort or aid to King George may intend;
And since roll, twist and leaf,
Of all comforts is chief,
30
They try for to steal it from poor honest men!
With no heart for fight,
We take refuge in flight,
But fire as we run, our retreat to defend,
Until our stern-chasers
35
Cut up her fore-braces,
And she flies off the wind from us poor honest men!
Twix’ the Forties and Fifties,
South-eastward the drift is,
And so, when we think we are making Land’s End,
40
Alas, it is Ushant
With half the King’s Navy,
Blockading French ports against poor honest men!
But they may not quit station
(Which is our salvation)
45
So swiftly we stand to the Nor’
ard again;
And finding the tail of
A homeward-bound convoy,
We slip past the Scillies like poor honest men.
Twix’ the Lizard and Dover,
50
We hand our stuff over,
Though I may not inform how we do it, nor when.
But a light on each quarter,
Low down on the water,
Is well understanded by poor honest men.
55
Even then we have dangers,
From meddlesome strangers,
Who spy on our business and are not content
To take a smooth answer,
Except with a handspike …
60
And they say they are murdered by poor honest men!
To be drowned or be shot
Is our natural lot,
Why should we, moreover, be hanged in the end –
After all our great pains
65
For to dangle in chains
As though we were smugglers, not poor honest men?
‘Our Fathers of Old’
Excellent herbs had our fathers of old –
Excellent herbs to ease their pain –
Alexanders and Marigold,
Eyebright, Orris, and Elecampane –
5
Basil, Rocket, Valerian, Rue,
(Almost singing themselves they run)
Vervain, Dittany, Call-me-to-you –
Cowslip, Melilot, Rose of the Sun.
Anything green that grew out of the mould
10
Was an excellent herb to our fathers of old.
Wonderful tales had our fathers of old,
Wonderful tales of the herbs and the stars –
The Sun was Lord of the Marigold,
Basil and Rocket belonged to Mars.
15
Pat as a sum in division it goes –
(Every herb had a planet bespoke) –
Who but Venus should govern the Rose?
Who but Jupiter own the Oak?
Simply and gravely the facts are told
20
In the wonderful books of our fathers of old.
Wonderful little, when all is said,
Wonderful little our fathers knew.
Half their remedies cured you dead –
Most of their teaching was quite untrue –
25
‘Look at the stars when a patient is ill
(Dirt has nothing to do with disease),
Bleed and blister as much as you will,
Blister and bleed him as oft as you please.’
Whence enormous and manifold
30
Errors were made by our fathers of old.
Yet when the sickness was sore in the land,
And neither planets nor herbs assuaged,
They took their lives in their lancet-hand
And, oh, what a wonderful war they waged!
35
Yes, when the crosses were chalked on the door –
(Yes, when the terrible dead-cart rolled!)
Excellent courage our fathers bore –
Excellent heart had our fathers of old.
None too learned, but nobly bold
40
Into the fight went our fathers of old.
If it be certain, as Galen says –
And sage Hippocrates holds as much –
‘That those afflicted by doubts and dismays
Are mightily helped by a dead man’s touch,’
45
Then, be good to us, stars above!
Then, be good to us, herbs below!
We are afflicted by what we can prove,
We are distracted by what we know.
So-ah, so!
50
Down from your heaven or up from your mould,
Send us the hearts of our fathers of old!
The Declaration of London
29 JUNE, 1911
On the reassembling of Parliament after the Coronation, the Government have no intention of allowing their followers to vote according to their convictions on the Declaration of London, but insist on a strictly party vote.
Daily Papers
We were all one heart and one race
When the Abbey trumpets blew.
For a moment’s breathing-space
We had forgotten you.
5
Now you return to your honoured place
Panting to shame us anew.
We have walked with the Ages dead –
With our Past alive and ablaze:
And you bid us pawn our honour for bread,
10
This day of all the days!
And you cannot wait till our guests are sped,
Or last week’s wreath decays?
The light is still in our eyes
Of Faith and Gentlehood,
15
Of Service and Sacrifice;
And it does not match our mood,
To turn so soon to your treacheries
That starve our land of her food.
Our ears still carry the sound
20
Of our once-Imperial seas,
Exultant after our King was crowned,
Beneath the sun and the breeze.
It is too early to have them bound
Or sold at your decrees.
25
Wait till the memory goes,
Wait till the visions fade.
We may betray in time, God knows,
But we would not have it said,
When you make report to our scornful foes,
30
That we kissed as we betrayed!
The Female of the Species
When the Himalayan peasant meets the he-bear in his pride,
He shouts to scare the monster, who will often turn aside.
But the she-bear thus accosted rends the peasant tooth and nail.
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.
5
When Nag the basking cobra hears the careless foot of man,
He will sometimes wriggle sideways and avoid it if he can.
But his mate makes no such motion where she camps beside the trail.
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.
When the early Jesuit fathers preached to Hurons and Choctaws,
10
They prayed to be delivered from the vengeance of the squaws.
’Twas the women, not the warriors, turned those stark enthusiasts pale.
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.
Man’s timid heart is bursting with the things he must not say,
For the Woman that God gave him isn’t his to give away;
15
But when the hunter meets with husband, each confirms the other’s tale –
The female of the species is more deadly than the male.
Man, a bear in most relations – worm and savage otherwise, –
Selected Poems Page 17