Extract from _Sir Rupert the Red_, in imitation of Tennyson's _Locksley Hall_. Very early in the morning would he, tumbling out of bed, Mow his chin with wretched razor, mow and hack it till it bled; Then he'd curse the harmless cutler, heap upon him curses deep, Curse him in his hour of waking, doubly curse him in his sleep-- Saying, "Mechi! O my Mechi! O my Mechi, mine no more, Whither's fled that brilliant sharpness which thy razors had of yore, Ere thou quittedst Leadenhall Street, quittedst it with many a qualm-- Ere thou soughtest rustic Tiptree, Tiptree and its model farm? Many a morning, by the mirror, did I pass thee o'er my beard, And my chin grew smooth beneath thee, of its hairy harvest cleared; Many an evening have I drawn thee 'cross the throats of wretched Jews, When they, trembling, showed their purses, stuffed for safety in their shoes. But, like mine, thy day is over--thou art blunt and I'm disgraced! Curses on thy maker's projects, curses on his 'magic paste.'" From _Mirth and Metre_. * * * * * The following imitation of "Break, Break, Break," is from _Snatches of Song_, by F. B. Doveton, 1880, which volume also contains (page 127) a long, but not very amusing, parody of _The Grandmother_, entitled _Hard Times_. BREAK, break, break, In thy pantry, costly maid! And I bitterly rue the hour When I took you from Mrs. Slade. 'Tis well for the lady fair Whose glass is unshattered yet! 'Tis well for the thrifty dame Who has "an unbroken set!" And the clatter and crash goes on, And Mary picks up the slain; But oh! for that teacup of rarest Sèvres, And that vase of porcelain! Break, break, break, In thy pantry, Mary G----! But that costly vase and that teacup rare Will never come back to me! Here is another in a similar vein, from _Punch's Almanack_ for 1884:-- BREAK, break, break, O slavey, my crock-e-ry! And I would that my tongue dared utter The wrath that's astir in me. O well for the labourer's wife, Who can wash her own tea-things each day! O well for the labourer's self, Who has no servant's wages to pay! But the breakages here go on, And I have to settle the bill; And it's oh! for the shards of my vanished cups, And my saucers dwindling still! Break! break! break! A week from this you shall see, But the dishes and plates you have smashed since you came, Will never come back to me! * * * * * OUR MISCELLANY (_which ought to have come out, but didn't_), edited by Edmund H. Yates and R. B. Brough, published by G. Routledge & Co., in 1857, contains a number of parodies, amongst them of Lord Macaulay, E. A. Poe, Longfellow, and Charles Dickens.