Parodies of the works of English & American authors, vol. IV

Parodies

Oh! dont you remember the days when “Bolt”
        Was the dodge that did landlords so “brown,”
      When on quarter day morns we have oft “shot the moon,”
        And been off to a new part of town?
      The old watchman always would let us then bolt,
        Of our actions no knowledge would own;
      But policeman are so wide awake now-adays,
        We should surely be caught ere we’d flown.

      Oh! don’t you remember our tradesmen, when “Bolt”
        Was the way to stop duns for small bills――
      When they knew that to claim their demands would entail
        Declarations, court-fees, and such ills?
      The system has gone to decay, and when “Bolt”
        Is the rule, or some game of the sort,
      They straight bring an action, and us they can take
        For contempt of a vile County Court.

      Oh! don’t you remember the days when “Bolt”
        Was the word that the billmen overthrew――
      When we left our acceptance, ne’er fearing a writ,
        And at Boulogne moustaches we grew?
      The sea is thought nothing, and now when “Bolt”
        We do, we the law can’t defy;
      For the New Law Procedure Act lets them pursue
        The debtor where’er he may fly.

  _Diogenes._ Vol. 3, page 132. March, 1854.

I have not met with any other parodies of _Ben Bolt_, although it is
probable that many have been written, as the song was very popular
some years since.

                            ――――:o:――――


                             THE STORM.

      Cease, rude Boreas, blust’ring railer!
        List, ye landsmen, all to me!
      Messmates, hear a brother sailor
        Sing the dangers of the sea;
      From bounding billows, first in motion,
        When the distant whirlwinds rise,
      To the tempest troubled ocean,
        Where the seas contend with skies!

           *     *     *     *     *

      The topsail-yards point to the wind, boys,
        See all clear to reef each course;
      Let the fore-sheet go, don’t mind, boys,
        Though the weather should be worse.
      Fore and aft the sprit-sail yard get,
        Reef the mizen, see all clear,
      Hands up, each preventure brace set,
        Man the fore-yard, cheer, lads, cheer!

                               G. A. STEVENS (died 1784.)

                     ――――

              CEASE, RUDE BOREAS.
            (_By a worried Editor._)

      Cease to bore us, and assail us,
        Writers! with your pens so free!
      List the tale――though’t won’t avail us,
        And our troubles you shall see!
      While around us roars the thunder,
        Of the Postman’s double knocks;
      Till our Housemaid stares with wonder,
        And our Tiger’s nerves it shocks.

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

Opening the text

General

Parodies of the works of English & American authors, vol. IV

Parodies

Oh! dont you remember the days when “Bolt”
        Was the dodge that did landlords so “brown,”
      When on quarter day morns we have oft “shot the moon,”
        And been off to a new part of town?
      The old watchman always would let us then bolt,
        Of our actions no knowledge would own;
      But policeman are so wide awake now-adays,
        We should surely be caught ere we’d flown.

      Oh! don’t you remember our tradesmen, when “Bolt”
        Was the way to stop duns for small bills――
      When they knew that to claim their demands would entail
        Declarations, court-fees, and such ills?
      The system has gone to decay, and when “Bolt”
        Is the rule, or some game of the sort,
      They straight bring an action, and us they can take
        For contempt of a vile County Court.

      Oh! don’t you remember the days when “Bolt”
        Was the word that the billmen overthrew――
      When we left our acceptance, ne’er fearing a writ,
        And at Boulogne moustaches we grew?
      The sea is thought nothing, and now when “Bolt”
        We do, we the law can’t defy;
      For the New Law Procedure Act lets them pursue
        The debtor where’er he may fly.

  _Diogenes._ Vol. 3, page 132. March, 1854.

I have not met with any other parodies of _Ben Bolt_, although it is
probable that many have been written, as the song was very popular
some years since.

                            ――――:o:――――


                             THE STORM.

      Cease, rude Boreas, blust’ring railer!
        List, ye landsmen, all to me!
      Messmates, hear a brother sailor
        Sing the dangers of the sea;
      From bounding billows, first in motion,
        When the distant whirlwinds rise,
      To the tempest troubled ocean,
        Where the seas contend with skies!

           *     *     *     *     *

      The topsail-yards point to the wind, boys,
        See all clear to reef each course;
      Let the fore-sheet go, don’t mind, boys,
        Though the weather should be worse.
      Fore and aft the sprit-sail yard get,
        Reef the mizen, see all clear,
      Hands up, each preventure brace set,
        Man the fore-yard, cheer, lads, cheer!

                               G. A. STEVENS (died 1784.)

                     ――――

              CEASE, RUDE BOREAS.
            (_By a worried Editor._)

      Cease to bore us, and assail us,
        Writers! with your pens so free!
      List the tale――though’t won’t avail us,
        And our troubles you shall see!
      While around us roars the thunder,
        Of the Postman’s double knocks;
      Till our Housemaid stares with wonder,
        And our Tiger’s nerves it shocks.

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

Parodies of the works of English & American authors, vol. IV

Parodies of the works of English & American authors, vol. IV

No reviews yet