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

Parodies

I’m here to seek thee now, Mary,
        As all I love the best;
      To fondly tell thee how, Mary,
        I’ve hid thee in my breast.
      I came to yield thee up my heart,
        With hope, and truth, and joy,
      And crown with Manhood’s honest faith
        The feelings of the Boy.
      I breathed thy name, but every pulse
        Grew still and cold the while
      For I was told thou wert asleep
        Just by the Churchyard Stile.

      *     *     *     *     *

                                     ELIZA COOK.

                     ――――


             THE LOW-BACKED CAR.

      When first I saw sweet Peggy,
        ’Twas on a market day,
      A low-back’d car she drove, and sat
        Upon a truss of hay;
      But when that hay was blooming grass,
        And deck’d with flowers of spring,
      No flow’r was there that could compare
        With the blooming girl I sing.
      As she sat in the low-back’d car――
      The man at the turnpike bar
        Never asked for the toll,
        But just rubb’d his old poll,
      And looked after the low-back’d car.

      *     *     *     *     *

                     ――――

            THE LOW-NECK’D DRESS.

      When first I saw Miss Clara,
        A west-end ball ’twas at,
      A low-neck’d dress she wore, and near
        The open door she sat;
      But when that door was thriving oak,
        Exposed to tempests keen
      And biting air
        So much, ’twas ne’er
        As the blooming girl I mean,
      As she sat in her low-neck’d dress,
      Becoming I must confess;
        For of all the men round,
        Not one could be found,
      But looked after the low-neck’d dress.

      The polka’s tumult over,
        The fondest of mammas
      Her daughter calls, and hints at shawls;
        But scornful “hums” and “ha’s”
      From Clara (artful goddess!)
        The kind proposal meet――
        Quite faint she feels――
        She fairly reels――
      She never could bear the heat!
      So she sits in her low-neck’d dress;
      But the heat would have troubled her less,
        For long weeks will have roll’d
        Ere she’s rid of her cold,
      That she caught from the Low-neck’d dress.

      I’d rather see those shoulders
        ’Neath dowdy cloak of fur,
      Or pilot coat, and round that throat
        A ploughman’s comforter;
      For I’d know that tender bosom
        Was safe from climate’s ill,
        And the heart so sweet
        Would much longer beat
      Than I now feel sure it will
      While she clings to her low-neck’d dress
      I’ve proposed, and she answer’d “yes.”
        Next week it’s to be,
        But make sure I shall see
      That it’s not in a low-neck’d dress.

  _Diogenes._ October, 1853.

                     ――――


      THE DINING CAR.

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

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

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