Identity

Rowland. Of her pure eyes (that now is seen)
Chorus.    Help vs to sing that be her faithful swains
Row:        O she alone the shepheards Queen,
Cho:        Her Flocke that leades,
            The goddesse of these medes,
            These mountaines and these plaines.

Row:        Those eyes of hers that are more cleere,
Cho:        Then silly shepheards can in song expresse,
Row:        Then be his beams that rule the yeare,
Cho:        Fy on that prayse,
            In striuing things to rayse:
            That doth but make them lesse.

Row:        That doe the flowery spring prolong,
Cho:        So much the earth doth in her presence ioy,
Row:        And keeps the plenteous summer young:
Cho:        And doth asswage
            The wrathfull wi...

Why should I care for the men of thames
Or the cheating waves of charter'd streams
Or shrink at the little blasts of fear
That the hireling blows into my ear

Tho born on the cheating banks of Thames
Tho his waters bathed my infant limbs
The Ohio shall wash his stains from me
I was born a slave but I go to be free.

When underneath the brown dead grass
My weary bones are laid,
I hope I shall not see the glass
At ninety in the shade.
I trust indeed that, when I lie
Beneath the churchyard pine,
I shall not hear that startling cry
“‘Thermom’ is ninety-nine!”

If one should whisper through my sleep
“Come up and be alive,”
I’d answer No, unless you’ll keep
The glass at sixty-five.
I might be willing if allowed
To wear old Adam’s rig,
And mix amongst the city crowd
Like Polynesian “nig”.

Far better in the sod to lie,
With pasturing pig above,
Than broil beneath a copper sky
In sight of all I love!
Far better to be turned to grass
To feed the poley cow,
Than be the half boiled bream, alas,
That I am really now!

For cow and...

[1]

Of fables judge not by their face;
They give the simplest brute a teacher's place.
Bare precepts were inert and tedious things;
The story gives them life and wings.
But story for the story's sake
Were sorry business for the wise;
As if, for pill that one should take,
You gave the sugary disguise.
For reasons such as these,
Full many writers great and good
Have written in this frolic mood,
And made their wisdom please.
But tinsel'd style they all have shunn'd with care;
With them one never sees a word to spare.
Of Phaedrus some have blamed the brevity,
While Aesop uses fewer words than he.
A certain Greek,[2] however, beats
Them both in his larconic feats.
Each tale he locks in verses four;
The well or ill I l...

Come, let us weep for Begum; he is dead.
Dead; and afar, where Thamis' waters lave
The busy marge, he lies unvisited,
Unsung; above no cypress branches wave,
Nor tributary blossoms fringe his grave;
Only would these poor numbers advertise
His copious charms, and mourn for his demise.

Blithesome was he and beautiful; the Zoo
Hath nought to match with Begum. He was one
Of infinite humour; well indeed he knew
To catch with mobile lips th' impetuous bun
Tossed him-ward by some sire-encouraged son,
Half-fearful, yet of pride fulfilled to note
The dough, swift-homing down th' exultant throat.

Whilom he pensive stood, infoliate
Of comfortable mud, and idly stirred
His tiny caudal, disproportionate
But not ungraceful, while a wanton herd
Of revel...

Born at Hull, November, 1806. Died at Beeston, near Nottingham, March 13th, 1892.


Wallett, old friend! Thy way's been long; -
Few livin can luk farther back;
But tha has left, bi jest an song,
A sunny gleam along thy track.
Aw'm nursin nah, mi childer's bairns,
Yet aw remember when a lad,
Sittin an listnin to thy yarns,
An thank thi nah, for th' joys aw had.

Full monny a lesson, quaintly towt,
Wi' witty phrase, sticks to me still;
Nor can aw call to mind ther's owt
Tha sed or did, to work me ill!
Noa laff tha raised do aw regret, -
Wit mixed wi' wisdom wor thy plan,
Which had aw heeded, aw admit,
Aw should ha been a better man.

Aw'd like to meet thee once agean,
An clink awr glasses as of yore,
An hear thi rail at all thi...

Let me to-day do something that shall take
    A little sadness from the world's vast store,
And may I be so favoured as to make
    Of joy's too scanty sum a little more
Let me not hurt, by any selfish deed
    Or thoughtless word, the heart of foe or friend;
Nor would I pass, unseeing, worthy need,
    Or sin by silence when I should defend.
However meagre be my worldly wealth,
    Let me give something that shall aid my. kind -
A word of courage, or a thought of health,
    Dropped as I pass for troubled hearts to find.
Let me to-night look back across the span
    'Twixt dawn and dark, and to my conscience say -
Because of some good act to beast or man -
    "The world is better that I lived to-day."

    When I behold Thee, almost slain,
    With one and all parts full of pain:
    When I Thy gentle heart do see
    Pierced through and dropping blood for me,
    I'll call, and cry out, thanks to Thee.

    Vers. But yet it wounds my soul to think
    That for my sin Thou, Thou must drink,
    Even Thou alone, the bitter cup
    Of fury and of vengeance up.

    Chor. Lord, I'll not see Thee to drink all
    The vinegar, the myrrh, the gall:

Vers. Chor. But I will sip a little wine;
        Which done, Lord, say: The rest is Mine.

Wor yo ivver at Horton Tide?
It wor thear 'at aw won mi bride;
An the joy o' mi life,
Is mi dear little wife,
An we've three little childer beside.

Aw wor donn'd in a new suit o'clooas,
A cigar wor stuck under mi nooas,
Aw set aght for a spree,
An some frolics to see,
Full o' fun throo mi heead to mi tooas.

Aw met Lijah an Amos, an Bill,
An ov coorse wi' each one aw'd a gill;
Till aw felt rayther mazy,
But net at all crazy,
For aw didn't goa in for mi fill.

As a lad aw'd been bashful an shy,
An aw blushed if a woman went by,
But this day bi gooid luck,
Aw felt chock full o' pluck,
Soa to leet on aw sattled to try.

As aw wandered abaat along th' street,
Who, ov all i' this world should aw meet!
But Mary o' J...

They're all buildin nests for thersen,
One bi one they goa fleetin away;
A suitable mate comes, - an then,
I'th' old nest they noa longer can stay.
Well, - it's folly for th' old en's to freeat,
Tho' it's hard to see loved ones depart, -
An we sigh, - let a tear drop, - an yet,
We bless 'em, an give 'em a start.

They've battles to feight 'at we've fowt,
They've trubbles an trials to face;
I'th' futer they luk an see nowt
'At can hamper ther coorse i' life's race.
Th' sun's shinin soa breetly, they think
Sorrow's claads have noa shadow for them,
They walk on uncertainty's brink,
An they see in each teardrop a gem.

Happy dreams 'at they had long ago,
Too sweet to believe - -could be true,
Are realized nah, for they know
Th' worl...

Oh! hush thee, my baby, the night is behind us
And black are the waters that sparkled so green.
The moon, O'er the combers, looks downward to find us
At rest in the hollows that rustle between.
Where billow meets billow, there soft by the pillow.
Oh, weary wee flipperling, curl at thy ease!
The storm shall not wake thee, no shark shall overtake thee
Asleep in the storm of slow-swinging seas.

        I'll tell you a story
        About Jack a Nory, -
    And now my story's begun:
        I'll tell you another
        About Jack his brother, -
    And now my story's done.

But here no cannon thunders to the gale;
Upon the wave no haughty pendants cast
A crimson splendour: lowly is the mast
That rises here, and humbly spread, the sail;
While, less disturbed than in the narrow Vale
Through which with strange vicissitudes he passed,
The Wanderer seeks that receptacle vast
Where all his unambitious functions fail
And may thy Poet, cloud-born Stream! be free
The sweets of earth contentedly resigned,
And each tumultuous working left behind
At seemly distance, to advance like Thee;
Prepared, in peace of heart, in calm of mind
And soul, to mingle with Eternity!

    Ah, holy midnight of the soul,
        When stars alone are high;
    When winds are resting at their goal,
        And sea-waves only sigh!

    Ambition faints from out the will;
        Asleep sad longing lies;
    All hope of good, all fear of ill,
        All need of action dies;

    Because God is, and claims the life
        He kindled in thy brain;
    And thou in him, rapt far from strife,
        Diest and liv'st again.

Step wid de banjo an' glide wid de fiddle,
Dis ain' no time fu' to pottah an' piddle:
Fu' Christmas is comin', it's right on de way,
An' dey's houahs to dance 'fo' de break o' de day.

What if de win' is taihin' an' whistlin'?
Look at dat' fiah how hit's spittin' an' bristlin'!
Heat in de ashes an' heat in de cindahs,
Ol' mistah Fros' kin des look thoo de windahs.

Heat up de toddy an' pas' de wa'm glasses,
Don' stop to shivah at blowin's an' blas'es,
Keep on de kittle an' keep it a-hummin',
Eat all an' drink all, dey's lots o' a-comin'.
Look hyeah, Maria, don't open dat oven,
Want all dese people a-pushin' an' shovin'?

Res' f'om de dance? Yes, you done cotch dat odah,
Mammy done cotch it, an' law! hit nigh flo'd huh;
'Possum is monst'ous fu' m...

I

There is no picturesqueness and no glory,
    No halo of romance, in war to-day.
    It is a hideous thing; Time would turn grey
With horror, were he not already hoary
At sight of this vile monster, foul and gory.
    Yet while sweet women perish as they pray,
    And new-born babes are slaughtered, who dare say
'Halt!' till Right pens its 'Finis' to the story!
There is no pathway, but the path through blood,
    Out of the horrors of this holocaust.
Hell has let loose its scalding crimson flood,
    And he who stops to argue now is lost.
Not brooms of creeds, not Pacifistic words
Can stem the tide, but swords - uplifted swords!

II

Yet, after Peace has turned the clean white page
    There shall be sorrow on the earth for years;
 ...

They were seated there in silence
    Each one busy with a frown,
It was midnight in the city,
    And the lid was on the town.
They had all been playing poker
    'Mid the rattle of the chink,
When a gloom fell o'er the party,
    For they couldn't buy a drink,
But a little fellow whispered
    As he held a poker hand,
"Can't we get as drunk on water
    As we can upon the land?"
Then we kicked the little rascal,
    And we spoke without a frown,
And we anchored safe in harbor
    When the lid was on the town.

Ward of the Law! dread Shadow of a King!
Whose realm had dwindled to one stately room;
Whose universe was gloom immersed in gloom,
Darkness as thick as life o'er life could fling,
Save haply for some feeble glimmering
Of Faith and Hope if thou, by nature's doom,
Gently hast sunk into the quiet tomb,
Why should we bend in grief, to sorrow cling,
When thankfulness were best? Fresh-flowing tears,
Or, where tears flow not, sigh succeeding sigh,
Yield to such after-thought the sole reply
Which justly it can claim. The Nation hears
In this deep knell, silent for threescore years,
An unexampled voice of awful memory!