Parodies of the works of English & American authors, vol. II
General
Parodies of the works of English & American authors, vol. II
Parodies
Here we have a
NATIONAL ANTHEM
BY WILLIAM CULLEN B――――.
The sun sinks softly to his evening post,
The sun swells grandly to his morning crown;
Yet not a star our flag of Heav’n has lost,
And not a sunset stripe with him goes down.
So thrones may fall; and from the dust of those,
New thrones may rise, to totter like the last;
But still our country’s nobler planet glows
While the eternal stars of Heaven are fast.
Upon finding that this did not go well to the air of “Yankee
Doodle,” the committee felt justified in declining it; being
furthermore prejudiced against it by a suspicion that the
poet has crowded an advertisement of a paper which he edits
into the first line.
Next we quote from a
NATIONAL ANTHEM
BY GEN. GEORGE P. M――――.
In the days that tried our fathers
Many years ago,
Our fair land achieved her freedom,
Blood-bought, you know.
Shall we not defend her ever
As we’d defend
That fair maiden, kind and tender,
Calling us friend?
Yes! Let all the echoes answer,
From hill and vale;
Yes! Let other nations, hearing,
Joy in the tale.
Our Columbia is a lady,
High-born and fair;
We have sworn allegiance to her――
Touch her who dare.
The tone of this “anthem” not being devotional enough to
suit the committee, it should be printed on an edition of
linen-cambric handkerchiefs, for ladies especially.
Observe this
NATIONAL ANTHEM
BY N. P. W――――.
One hue of our flag is taken
From the cheeks of my blushing Pet,
And its stars beat time and sparkle
Like the studs on her chemisette.
Its blue is the ocean shadow
That hides in her dreamy eyes;
It conquers all men, like her,
And still for a Union flies.
Several members of the committee being pious, it is not
strange that this “anthem” has too much of the Anacreon spice
to suit them.
We next peruse a
NATIONAL ANTHEM
BY THOMAS BAILEY A――――.
The little brown squirrel hops in the corn,
The cricket quaintly sings;
The emerald pigeon nods his head,
And the shad in the river springs,
The dainty sunflower hangs its head
On the shore of the summer sea;
And better far that I were dead,
If Maud did not love me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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