Part 5

The residences of Wordsworth, Southey, and Coleridge near the English Lakes suggested the title of lake poets, and of their works the Rev. Henry Townshend wrote:--

"They come from the lakes--an appropriate quarter For poems diluted with plenty of water."

Surely Lord Holland was a little wide of the mark when he penned the following epigram, complaining that Southey did not write sufficient laureate poems; the fact is, he wrote too many to sustain his reputation as a poet:--

"Our Laureate Bob defrauds the King-- He takes his cash and will not sing; Yet on he goes, I know not why, Singing for us who do not buy."

In the _Diary_ of Thomas Moore, under date of September 4, 1825, it is stated: "Lord H. full of an epigram he had just written on Southey, which we all twisted and turned into various shapes; he is as happy as a boy during the operation. He suggests the following as the last couplet:--

"And for us, who will not buy, Goes singing on eternally."

It has been truthfully observed that William Wordsworth "found poetry in the most common-place events of life, and described them in familiar language; he naturally contended that there was little real difference between poetry and prose." Byron thus rallies him on the theory:--

"The simple Wordsworth, framer of a lay As soft as evening in his favourite May, Who warns his friend, 'to shake off toil and trouble, And quit his books, for fear of growing double;' Who, both by precept and example, shows That prose is verse, and verse is merely prose; Convincing all, by demonstration plain, Poetic souls delight in prose inane."

Theodore Hook produced some pungent verses; here is a slight example on Shelley's "Prometheus Unbound":--

"Shelley styles his new poem _Prometheus Unbound_, And 'tis like to remain so while time circles round; For surely an age would be spent in the finding A reader so weak as to pay for the binding!"

Scott wrote a poem which was published in 1815, under the title of _The Field of Waterloo_, and prefaced it thus: "It may be some apology for the imperfections of this poem, that it was composed hastily, and during a short tour upon the Continent, where the author's labours were liable to frequent interruption; but its best apology is, that it was written for the purpose of assisting the Waterloo subscription."

This plea did not disarm hostile criticism. Thomas, Lord Erskine, expressed himself as follows:--

"On Waterloo's ensanguined plain Lie tens of thousands of the slain; But none by sabre or by shot Fell half so flat as Walter Scott."

Wrote Thomas Moore in his _Diary_: "I have read _Walter_-loo. The battle murdered many, and _he_ has murdered the battle; 'tis sad stuff."

The Earl of Carlisle wrote a sixpenny pamphlet advocating small theatres; and on the day it was issued the newspapers contained the announcement that he had given a large subscription to a public fund, a circumstance which formed the theme of the following epigram by his cousin, Lord Byron:

"Carlisle subscribes a thousand pounds Out of his rich domains; And for sixpence circles round The product of his brains: 'Tis thus the difference you may hit Between his fortune and his wit."

Byron made his unhappy marriage the subject of at least three epigrams. Here are two of them as follows:--

ON HIS WEDDING-DAY.

"Here's a happy new year! But with reason I beg you'll permit me to say-- Wish me many returns of the season, But as few as you please of the day."

At a later period he wrote--

"This day, of all our days, has done The worst for _me_ and _you_: 'Tis just six years since we were _one_, And five since we were _two_."

Lord Byron's friend, Thomas Moore, wrote many excellent epigrams, and not a few were penned about him. He published his first volume of poems under the name of Thomas Little. It is stated that a lady found a copy of the book under the pillow of her maid's bed, and wrote on it in pencil:--

"You read _Little_, I guess; I wish you'd read _less_."

The servant was equal to her mistress, and wrote:--

"I read Little before, Now I mean to read _Moore_."

Lord Byron wrote the following in 1811 on Moore's farcical opera:--

"Good plays are scarce; So Moore writes farce; The poet's fame grows brittle-- We knew before That Little's Moore, But now 'tis Moore that's Little."

Respecting Moore's duel with Lord Jeffrey, Theodore Hook composed the following lines:--

"When Anacreon would fight, as the poets have said, A reverse he displayed in his vapour, For while all his poems were loaded with lead, His pistols were loaded with paper.

For excuses, Anacreon old custom may thank, Such salvo he should not abuse; For the cartridge, by rule, is always made blank That is fired away at _Reviews_."

"Moore is here called Anacreon," says W. Davenport Adams, "in allusion to his translations from that poet." The duel was owing to an article in the _Edinburgh Review_, which Moore thought proper to resent by challenging the editor. The combatants were, however, arrested on the ground, and conveyed to Bow Street, where the pistols were found to contain merely a charge of powder, the balls having in some way disappeared. Byron alludes to the circumstance in _English Bards and Scotch Reviewers_:--

"When Little's leadless pistol met his eye, And Bow Street myrmidons stood laughing by."

After this strange encounter, the poet and critic were firm friends.

Slips of the pen have given rise to some smart epigrammatic corrections. Albert Smith wrote in an album as follows:--

"Mont Blanc is the Monarch of Mountains, They crown'd him long ago; But who they got to put it on Nobody seems to know." ALBERT SMITH.

Thackeray was successfully solicited to contribute to the same book, and wrote under the fore-going:--

A HUMBLE SUGGESTION.

"I know that Albert wrote in a hurry, To criticize I scarce presume; But methinks that Lindley Murray, Instead of _who_ had written _whom_." W. M. THACKERAY.

Samuel Warren on one occasion made a slip in writing in an album, misquoting Moore, writing "glory's throb" instead of "glory's thrill." The mistake formed the subject of the following impromptu lines by Mr. Digby Seymour:--

"Warren, thy memory was poor The Irish bard to rob, Had you remembered Tommy Moore, Glory would 'thrill,' not 'throb.'"

The vanity of Mr. Warren was unusually largely developed, and gave rise to a number of amusing anecdotes. Sir George Rose thus refers to his weakness:--

"Samuel Warren, though able, yet vainest of men, Could he guide with discretion his tongue and his pen, His course would be clear for--'Ten Thousand a Year;' But limited else be a brief--'Now and Then.'"

For a long period Mr. Warren was the Recorder for Hull. Mr. Thompson, the Town Clerk, was a gentleman of cultivated literary tastes, and able to compose a neat epigram. He wrote the following:--

"Our Recorder, Sam Warren, from all that I hear, Is one of the kindest of men, For a friend he presents with 'Ten Thousand a Year,' And adds to the gift 'Now and Then.'"

Mr. William Harrison Ainsworth, the romance writer, was very unpopular with the contributors of _Punch_, and many were the satires on him in its pages. Colburn published a magazine, in which many of Ainsworth's novels appeared, and this gave rise to the following epigram:--

"Says Ainsworth to Colburn: 'A plan in my pate is To give my romance as A supplement gratis.'

"Says Colburn to Ainsworth: ''Twill do very nicely, For that will be charging Its value precisely.'"

In early manhood, Edwin Paxton Hood called upon Bulwer Lytton without any introduction. The servant told him that his master could not be seen. On receiving the intimation, Hood took out of his pocket pencil and paper, and wrote as follows:--

"A son of song, to fame unknown, Stands waiting in your hall below; Your footman tells him to begone; Say, mighty Bulwer, shall he go?"

It is not surprising to learn that the impromptu lines proved an effective introduction. The interview was the first of many pleasant meetings between the author of _The Caxtons_ and Mr. Paxton Hood.

Poetical Graces.

Literary by-paths furnish some singular specimens of poetical graces. We produce a few for the entertainment of our readers.

Robert Fergusson, the Edinburgh poet, was born in 1751, and was a student at St. Andrews' University from his thirteenth to his seventeenth year. It was the duty of each student, in turn, to ask a blessing at the dinner table. One day, to the consternation of all, the youthful bard repeated the following lines:

"For rabbits young, and for rabbits old, For rabbits hot, and for rabbits cold, For rabbits tender, and for rabbits tough, Our thanks we render, for we've had enough."

The masters of the college deliberated how they should punish the graceless poet. It was finally resolved not to censure him, but to have in the future a more spare supply of rabbits. Poor Fergusson's sad career closed in a lunatic asylum at an early age, not, however, before he had enriched Scottish poetical literature with some important contributions.

Burns appears to have had a great admiration for this wayward son of song. He placed over his remains in the Canongate Churchyard, Edinburgh, a tombstone bearing the following inscription:--

"Here lies Robert Fergusson, Poet, born September 5th, 1751, Died October 16th, 1774.

No sculptured marble here, nor pompous lay No storied urn, nor animated bust; This simple stone directs pale Scotia's way To pour her sorrows o'er her Poet's dust."

On the back of the stone it is stated:--

"By special grant of the Managers to Robert Burns, who erected this stone, this burial place is ever to remain sacred to the memory of Robert Fergusson."

More than one poetical grace is attributed to the facile pen of Burns. His grace before dinner is well known, and is as follows:--

"Oh Thou who kindly dost provide For every creature's want! We bless Thee, God of nature wide, For all Thy goodness lent: And if it please Thee, Heavenly guide, May never worse be sent, But whether granted or denied, Lord, bless us with content."

It is said that at one of Burns's convivial dinners he was desired to say grace, and he gave the following, impromptu:

"O Lord we do Thee humbly thank For what we little merit;-- Now Jean may tak' the flesh away, And Will bring on the spirit."

On one occasion a rhymster, who had placed before him a supper small in quantity and poor in quality, invoked a blessing with the following lines:--

"O Thou who bless'd the loaves and fishes Look down upon these two poor dishes; And though the 'tatoes be but small, Lord make them large enough for all; For if they do our bellies fill, 'Twill be a wondrous miracle."

This reminds us of an epigram entitled "Dress v. Dinner:"--

What is the reason, can you guess, Why men are poor, and women thinner? So much do they for dinner dress, There's nothing left to dress for dinner.

On a graceless peer an epigrammatist wrote:--

"'By proxy I pray, and by proxy I vote,' A graceless peer said to a churchman of note; Who answered,'My lord, then I venture to say, You'll to heaven ascend in a similar way.'"

Here is a grateful grace:--

"Some hae meat that canna eat, An' some cou'd eat that want it; But we hae meat, an' we can eat, Sae let the Lord be thankit."

The Rev. Samuel Wesley, formerly vicar of Epworth, and another friend were entertained to dinner at Temple Belwood, by a host noted as a strange compound of avarice and oddity. Mr. Wesley returned thanks with the following impromptu lines:--

"Thanks for the feast, for 'tis no less Than eating manna in the wilderness, Here meagre famine bears controlless sway, And ever drives each fainting wretch away. Yet here, O how beyond a saint's belief, We've seen the glories of a chine of beef; Here chimneys smoke, which never smoked before, And we have dined, where we shall dine no more."

In conclusion we give a vegetarian grace. The first four lines are to be said before the meal:--

"These fruits do Thou, O Father, bless, Which Mother Earth to us doth give; No blood doth stain our feast to day, In Thee we trust, and peaceful live."

The next is a form of thanksgiving after a vegetarian meal:--

"We thank Thee, Lord, for these Thy fruits, Which Mother Earth to us doth give; No blood hath stained our feast to-day, In Thee we trust, and peaceful live!"

Poetry on Panes.

In a variety of places, but more especially in old village inns, reflections in verse, good, bad, and indifferent, have been found scratched upon window-panes. We have carefully copied the best examples which have come under our notice, and present a batch herewith, believing that they may entertain our readers.

A genial old Yorkshire parson appears at the commencement of the present century to have been greatly pleased with an inn situated between Northallerton and Boroughbridge, for he visited it daily to enjoy his pipe and glass. On one of its window-panes he inscribed some lines, of which the following is a literal copy:--

"Here in my wicker chair I sitt, From folly far, and far from witt, Content to live, devoid of care, With country folks and country fare; To listen to my landlord's tale, And drink his health in Yorkshire ale; Then smoak and read the _York Courant_; I'm happy and 'tis all I want. Though few my tythes, and light my purse, I thank my God it is no worse."

Here is another Yorkshire example, written towards the close of the last century; it is from an old wayside inn near Harewood-bridge, on the Leeds and Harrogate road:--

"Gaily I lived, as Ease and Nature taught, And passed my little Life without a thought; I wonder, then, why Death, that tyrant grim, Should think of me, who never thought of him."

Under the foregoing, the following was written:

"Ah! why forget that Death should think of thee; If thou art Mortal, such must surely be; Then rouse up reason, view thy hast'ning end, And lose no time to make God thy Friend."

In the old coaching days, the Dog and Doublet, at Sandon, Staffordshire, was a popular house. A guest wrote on one of its window panes the following recommendation:--

"Most travellers to whom these roads are known, Would rather stay at Sandon than at Stone! Good chaises, horses, treatment, and good wines, They always meet with at James Ballantine's."

A penniless poet wrote on a tavern window-pane the lines:--

"O Chalk! to me, and to the poor, a friend, On Thee my life and happiness depend; On Thee with joy, with gratitude I think, For, by thy bounty, I both eat and drink."

"Chalk" is a slang word for credit. Innkeepers kept their accounts on the back of a door, written with chalk.

The following epigram was written under a pane disfigured with autographs:--

"Should you ever chance to see, A man's name writ on a glass, Be sure he owns a diamond, And his parent owns an ass."

On the accession of Her Majesty, this _jeu d'esprit_ was inscribed on an inn window:--

"The Queen's with us, the Whigs exulting say; For when she found us in, she let us stay. It may be so; but give me leave to doubt How long she'll keep you when she finds you out."

The following lines dated 1793, were written on a window-pane at the Hotel des Pays Bas, Spa Belgium:--

"I love but one, and only one, Ah, Damon, thou art he! Love thou but one, and only one, And let that one be me!"

Early in the present century, it was customary for the actors to write their names on the panes in one of the windows of the York Theatre. On the glass of the same window were found inscribed these lines.

"The rich man's name embellished stands on brass; The player simply scribbles his on glass, Appropriate tablet to the wayward fate-- A brittle shining, evanescent state: The fragile glass destroyed--farewell the name; The actor's glass consumed--farewell his fame."

Our next example, dated 1834, from Purwell Hall, Batley, Yorkshire, was composed by a Miss Taylor. It is generally believed that her heart was won by a lover who did not meet with the approbation of her friends, and that they made her prisoner in one of the rooms of the old Hall, and there, on a pane of glass, were written the lines which follow:--

"Come, gentle Muse, wont to divert Corroding cares from anxious heart; Adjust me now to bear the smart Of a relenting angry heart. What though no being I have on earth, Though near the place that gave me birth, And kindred less regard do pay Than thy acquaintance of to-day: Know what the best of men declare, That they on earth but strangers are, Nor matter it a few years hence How fortune did to thee dispense, If--in a palace thou hast dwelt, Or--in a cell of penury felt-- Ruled as a prince--served as a slave, Six feet of earth is all thou'lt have. Hence give my thoughts a nobler theme, Since all the world is but a dream Of short endurance."

Robert Burns wrote several lines on tavern windows. On a pane of glass at the Queensberry Arms, Sanquhar, he inscribed the following.

"Ye gods! ye gave to me a wife Out of your grace and favour, To be a comfort to my life; And I was glad to have her. But if your providence divine For other ends design her, To obey your will at any time, I'm ready to resign her."

Next may be quoted:--

"Envy, if thy jaundiced eye Through this window chance to pry, To thy sorrow, thou wilt find All that's generous, all that's kind: Virtue, friendship, every grace Dwelling in this happy place."

Burns's lines written on the window-panes of the Globe Tavern, Dumfries, have frequently been quoted. The following inscription refers to the charms of the daughter of the factor of Closeburn estate, when the poet resided at Ellisland:--

"O lovely Polly Stewart, O charming Polly Stewart, There's not a flower that blooms in May, That's half so fair as thou art."

In some editions of the poet's works, the following verse, stated to have been copied from a window of the same tavern, is given:--

"The graybeard, Old Wisdom, may boast of his treasures; Grant me with gay Folly to live; I grant him his calm-blooded, time settled pleasures; But Folly has raptures to give."

Such are a few of the many rhymes scratched upon glass. Some of the panes on which they were inscribed may now be broken, and this may be the only means of preserving them.

English Folk-Rhymes.

English folk-rhymes are very numerous and curious. Characteristics of persons and places have given rise to not a few which are frequently far from complimentary. Weather-lore is often expressed in rhyme; the rustic muse has besides rendered historic events popular, and enabled persons to remember them who are not readers of books. The lines often lack polish, but are seldom without point.

Amongst the more ancient rhymes are those respecting grants of land. The following is a good example, and is from Derbyshire:--

"Me and mine Give thee and thine Millners Hay And Shining Cliff, While grass is green And hollies rough."

The old story of the grant is thus related. Years ago, a member of the ancient family of Lowe had the honour of hunting with the king and his nobles. Lowe rode a splendid horse, the only one in at the death. The king admired the animal very much, and the owner presented it to His Majesty. The horse "mightily pleased the king." Some little time afterwards, Lowe waited upon the king to beg a brier bed and a watering-place, which were Shining Cliff and Millners Hay. The request was at once complied with. The tale does not end here. It is related that "an envious courtier told the king that he did not know what he was doing, for what he was giving away was a great wood with a large tract of land." Upon this, Lowe said to His Majesty: "King or no king?"--"Why, king, Lowe." Adding with prompitude: "The brier-bed and watering-place are thine:" the rhyme above quoted being given as the title for the grant.

It is asserted that Athelstan granted the first charter to the ancient borough of Hedon, Yorkshire, in these words:--

"As free make I thee As eye see or ear hear."

It is said a similar charter was granted by the same king to the neighbouring town of Beverley.

An old, old Norfolk rhyme says:--

"Rising was a seaport town, And Lynn it was a wash; But now Lynn is a seaport town, And Rising fares the worst."

It is said at Norwich:--

"Caistor was a city ere Norwich was none, And Norwich was built of Caistor stone."

"About half-way between Curbar and Brompton, to the right of the turnpike leading from Barlow to Sheffield," writes William Wood, "there is, far on the moor, a very level flat piece of ground, near a mile square, most remarkable for its boggy nature, so much so that it is dangerous to cross, or at times to approach. Here, before the Roman invasion, says the legend, stood a town or village, the inhabitants of which lived, according to Diodorus Siculus, in small cots or huts built of wood, the walls of stakes or wattles, like hurdles, and covered with rushes or reeds. These dwellings, with their inhabitants, were swallowed up by one of those convulsions of nature so destructive at times to the habitations of mankind." Respecting Leechfield and Chesterfield are the following lines current in Derbyshire:--

"When Leechfield was a market town, Chesterfield was gorse and broom; Now Chesterfield's a market town, Leechfield a marsh is grown."

Respecting Nertoun, a Somersetshire village, near Taunton, is this couplet:--

"Nertoun was a market-town When Taunton was a furzy down."

A Scottish rhyme says:--

"York was, London is, And Edinburgh will be The biggest of the three."

Says a popular English rhyme:--

"Lincoln was, London is, And York shall be The fairest city of the three."

In the days of old it was the practice to allow the wives of the Lord Mayors of York to retain by courtesy the title Lady for life, and this custom gave rise to the following couplet:--

"The Lord Mayor's a lord but a year and a day; But his Lady's a lady for ever and aye."

Few English towns have made greater progress than the thriving port of Hull. Its prosperity was predicted long ago:--

"When Myton is pulled down, Hull shall become a great town."

As a matter of history, it may be stated that when the town was threatened by Charles I., a number of houses in Myton Lane, as well as the Charter-house, were laid in ruins by Sir John Hotham, governor of Hull, so that they might not give shelter to the Royalists. Ray refers to this couplet, and, in error, calls Myton, Dighton.

Selling church-bells has given rise to satirical rhymes. Here are three Lincolnshire rhymes on this topic:--

"The poor Hatton people Sold the bells to build up the steeple."

The next says:--

"Owersby's parish, Wicked people, Sold their bells to Kelsey To build a steeple."

It is stated in the third:--

"Poor Scartho people, Sold their bells to repair the steeple."

About 1710, the spire of Arlesey Church, Bedfordshire, fell down, and it is believed the bells were broken. The metal was sold to a distant parish to raise money to rebuild the spire, and until the year 1877 only one small bell was suspended in the steeple to call the inhabitants to the house of prayer. The transaction gave rise to the saying:--

"Arlesey, Arlesey, wicked people, Sold their bells to build their steeple."