Parodies of the works of English & American authors, vol. IV
General
Parodies of the works of English & American authors, vol. IV
Parodies
You――the taxpayer unfortunate,
You――the Lord Knows-who, and lady,
You――the Lord, shoddy-mixer,
You――the almighty working man,
Patient grumblers of England.
You――all sorts of men――and others,
Irish, Yankee, dynamiters――
All your hearts be in harmony,
All your pockets open lib’rally
To the numerous funds in progress,
Gilding the year of Jubilee.
* * * * *
XI.
Were there poets living in past ages?
Are there poets writing still amongst us?
Pray the Lord of Rhyme to guide weak pens
Till the bards do pass. Song giants come back,
And old sweet Poetry as the victor
Dawns into a Jubilee of the ages.
_Scraps._ April 16, 1887.
――――
OWED TO LORD TENNYSON.
(_Carmen Sequel-airy._)
I.
Fifty times our nose has twirled and tilted,
Fifty times our silvern laughter fallen,
Since, my Lord, we read your Ode――your metre.
II.
You, renowned for a stateliness
Rare in Prose, or in Poetry,
Keen with impress of Genius,
Crowned so long with a laurel-wreath
Seldom worn by a worthier,
Now with preposterous flummeries
Come at last to this flatulent
Droning Ode on the Jubilee!
III.
Nothing of the flawless――but the tin pot――
Nothing of the dulcet, or strain glorious,
All is fussy, feeble, flat――writ poorly.
* * * * *
VI.
You that wanton in epithets,
Spare not now to be bountiful,
Call Tom Moore to regale with you,
Make your sentiments mirthfuller,
Send your spleen to the hospital,
Let the reader be comforted,
Let the seedy be junketed,
Let MacM. in his purse rejoice
At your Ode on the Jubilee.
VII.
Henry’s fifty _truths_ are all in shadows,
Green with envy Edmund’s fifty t’others,
Ananias’ forti-tude forgotten.
VIII.
You, the Patriot Laureate,
Write a better memorial!――
Something really gorgeous
’Bout th’ Imperial Institute,
Rich in jingle, in ornament,
Which may fetch South Kensington,
All South Kensington after us,
In this year of the Jubilee.
IX.
Fifty lines of ever-broadening Outlook,
Fifty lines of ever-brightening Promise,
Fifty lines of ever-widening Meaning.
X.
You, the Flighty, the Fortunate,
You, the Lord-_in-Memoriam_,
You, the Word-manufacturer.
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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