The Vicar of Morwenstow: Being a Life of Robert Stephen Hawker, M.A.Baring-Gould, S. (Sabine)
General
The Vicar of Morwenstow: Being a Life of Robert Stephen Hawker, M.A.
Baring-Gould, S. (Sabine)
Hawker, Robert Stephen, 1803?-1875
When the Irish Church was disestablished, the vicar was highly incensed,
and at the election of 1873 voted for the Conservative candidate instead
of holding fast in his allegiance to the Liberal. But when the Public
Worship Bill was taken up by Mr. Disraeli, and carried through
Parliament by the Conservative government, his faith in the Tory prime
minister failed as wholly as it had in the leader of the Liberal party;
and he wrote the following bitter epigram on the two prime ministers:—
An English boy was born, a Jew, and then
On the eighth day received the name of Ben.
Another boy was born, baptised, but still
In common parlance called the People’s Will!
Both lived impenitent, and so they died;
And between both the Church was crucified.
Which bore the brand, I pray thee, tell me true—
The wavering Christian, or the doubtful Jew?
There is another epigram attributed to him, but whether rightly or not I
am not in a position to state:—
Doctor Hopwood,[*] the vicar of Calstock,[*] is dead;
But, _De mortuis nil nisi bonum_, is said.
Let this maxim be strictly regarded, and then
Doctor Hopwood will never be heard of again!
The following pretty lines were addressed to a child, the daughter of an
attached friend, who was budding into beautiful womanhood. It was
written in 1864.
The eyes that melt, the eyes that burn,
The lips that make a lover yearn,—
These flashed on my bewildered sight
Like meteors of the northern night.
Then said I, in my wild amaze,
“What stars be they that greet my gaze?”
Where shall my shivering rudder turn?
To eyes that melt, or eyes that burn?
Ah! safer far the darkling sea
Than where such perilous signals be;
To rock and storm and whirlwind turn
From eyes that melt, and eyes that burn.
A lady was very pressing that he should write something in her album—she
thought his poems so charming, his ballads so delicious, his epigrams so
delightful, etc. Mr. Hawker was impatient at this poor flattery, and,
taking up her album, wrote in it:—
A best superfine coat 5 5 0
A pair of kerseymere small-clothes 2 14 0
A waistcoat with silk buttons 1 10 0
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£9 9 0
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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