Parodies of the works of English & American authors, vol. I
General
Parodies of the works of English & American authors, vol. I
Parodies
Of Tennyson there are two imitations of _Maud;_ one, nine verses in
length, of _In Memoriam_, and one entitled _A Character_, which is
a rather close parody of a poem having the same title, published in
Tennyson's 1830 volume.
It will be remembered that at the time _Our Miscellany_ appeared, M.
Jullien's Promenade Concerts were in the full tide of their prosperity,
and that the little fopperies and vanities of the clever _Chef
d'orchestre_, and his importation of French military bands were then the
talk of the town.
A CHARACTER.
(_Jullien._)
With half a glance upon the house,
Each night he said "The gatherings
Of people underneath this roof
Teach me the paying sort of things,
And music, whence they'd stand aloof,
May in the ocean depths go souse."
* * * * *
He led a polka--round his skull
He waved the rhythm of the charm,
And stamped, and shook his dress-coat skirts,
With giant wavings of his arm;
And then--he went and changed his shirt!
And said the house was very full.
And so he drove a thriving trade,
With symphonies in classic way;
With Drummers and with Zouaves' call
Himself upon himself did play,
Each season ending with a ball
Of masques, his fortune thus he made.
* * * * *
The _In Memoriam_ verses are scarcely so good, I will, therefore, only
quote the first and the last:--
RICHMOND, 1856.
I HOLD it truth, when I recall
Last London's season's joyous spell,
'Tis better to have danced not well,
Than never to have danced at all.
* * * * *
The season's past; alone at Basle
I sit; but still, as truth I tell,
'Tis better to have danced not well,
Than never to have danced at all.
* * * * *
The two imitations of _Maud_, at pages 80 and 179, are too long, and
scarcely sufficiently interesting, to quote at length.
_The Shilling Book of Beauty_, by Cuthbert Bede (J. Blackwood, 1853), has
also a parody of _Maud_, in ten verses, it is entitled:--
MAUD IN THE GARDEN.
_By Alfred Tennison, Esq._
She is coming, my own, my sweet;
She is coming, my life, my fate;
I hear the beat of her fairy feet,
As she trips to the garden gate;
As she comes to the garden gate,
In her glimmer of satin and pearl,
With her sunny head in a terrible state
And her ringlets out of curl.
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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