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…assailable ground Of Ace, King, Queen, Knave—verbum sap— “ Hi, mister, your wheel’s goin’ round !” L’ENVOI I doubt if the verse I distil Will be by th’ Academy crowned, I don’t care a bit if it will, As long as the voices are shrill ;— “ Hi, mister, your wheel’s goin’ round!”
…s arm I’1l soon be tucked, If any virtue lie in Whately.” With Huxley it appears to her, Mutatis, that’s to say, mutandts, The situation will recur, Unhelped by artibus nefandis. She will not recognise the fact, That probably a change would snare ’em! A person of superior tact, Would purchase bloomers, ay, and wear ’em. The jaunty jump, the cigarette, The little hat (or toque) all skew-wise Might claim his errant fancy yet— This seems to me (I hope to you) wise. 65
…s arise. The workers drop axes and spades, And Brandenburg labour supplies The goods. It is very unwise Your money in labour to sink. It will vanish, the blue in the skies :— But Smith’s is a permanent ink. And even the woe that invades Will pass, I make bold to surmise, Like a man who for salmon trout wades Till the water comes over his thighs.
… dined upon Maggi! and Cotton ;? We said of the couloir “on pourrait en vouloir” ; We said of the rocks—they are rotten. (2) We said “’T will be cold, not improbably wet,” We sneered at the ridge we had passed, We said of the sun “ His day’s work he has done.” We said of the sky—“ it is vast.” (3) We spoke of the snow—“ it is notably cold ” ; We supped upon Cotton and Maggi ; We observed to the moon “ Be a dear and come soon.’ We remarked of the crags—“ they are craggy.” (4) Intelligent talk will most surely beguile The longest night out on the…
…part, O mystic and dolorous Kelly, Apostle of Art! Seven sorrows are sung by the Herald :? But thy daubs, which are seventy times seven, Will kill me my militant Gerald, And then they will haunt me in heaven ; Fierce eyebrow or famishing bosom, Rossetti or Aubrey or Jones, Some buxom, some frail as the dew, some Mere bags full of bones. You shift and bedeck and bedrape them (Though some are both nude and antique) :— Your epigrams, who shall escape them? Your metaphors often oblique ? With words you have beaten and blessed us, You caused us to s…
20 BALLADE OF SUMMER jOYS The epithet he certainly Appears to have employed. He prays No fizz, nor will to heaven apply For lots of Salmon Mayonnaise. ENVOI King of the Israelites, lay by Austere looks and ascetic ways! You would condone polygamy— I only ask for length of days With lots of Salmon Mayonnaise.
BALLADE OF BAD VERSES Of wind, which I honestly trust Will be quick and flamboyant and bluff, And leave me to satisfy Fust :—! Lord, keep us from reading the stuff! L’ENVOI Prince Printer, in wait you are lying For copy, and I’m in a huff. You see even me versifying— Lord, keep us from reading the stuff ! 1R, Browning’s Works, vol. xvi. A pet name for Mr Spalding.
… the wind, and glad as the rain :— Say, how long? Say, to whom shall the lips belong This year, next year, never again ? Say, whose lips will have done me wrong? Tell me, little shy bird, if pain Dwell in thy heart at an idle song ; Now we are one; we shall soon be twain ! Say, how long? 79
…TENNIS 35 (If I do bore him, I’m not in a disgusting music hall set!) Though he chatter and chortle and chuckle, at last to the point he will get, Which as I have previously observed is to make it perfectly plain to the initiated, whether by force of language or mere loudness of call, That this truth is a type of true triumph beyond the bad odds of a bet, In fact I won’t take your money (the first law of betting is that you mayn’t bet on a certainty) so perfectly convinced by this time are all wise men that the score of life is at Love-all. So …
… see so little, is to point out the analogy of lawn-tennis and life in a light and humorous way which even on the most blasé of Freshmen will be unlikely to pall. I will quote you the Walt that was Whitman, the Wilde that was Oscar, the Vincent O’Sullivan, paean | and chant of the classical world, songs from America due to the lyre of the Harte that was Bret. ~ And all these estimable personages, very useful in their way, but to be strenuously opposed if they should endeavour to put their oar into morals, religion, or more important still, poli…
…if they ever exhume, From the Corn Exchange, me, and we wed, I shall make this poor joke, with a bloom Of happiness which, I assume, You will not consider ill-bred, As we book for the Land of the Oom :— “The Trip! and I wish I were dead.”
…metre, in which there is but one rule, viz. “anything scans,” seems to have run away with him. Would the motor had done as the metre! He will be printed as prose.—Ed.| Filled with anticipations of the most blood-curdling order, we sought the breezy heights of Montmartre. The Sacré Coeur, looking more than ever like a compromise between an Indian mosque and a Buzsard cake, towered above us in the frosty twilight. It is, however, invisible from the theatre itself, so that we were able to give our undivided attention to the system of Doctor Goudro…
58 TRAVERSE OF THE AIGUILLES ROUGES (10) Superior persons in collars and cuffs Said we ought to be grateful to Heaven. “Tf young fools will scale inaccessible bluffs They’re killed—it’s a hundred to seven.” (11) They said, “ Without guides, which the Commune provides No party for big hills should go.” They said of our pluck “ ’twas the devil’s own luck,” And they said of our pace—“ it was slow.” (12) They spoke but we heard not—We slept like the dead, Having feasted on Mauler and Bouvier; And the wind echoed Cecil’s olfactory vessels That snore…
…arth spits on thee, contagious Caliban! Hell spits on thee ; her sin is spiritual. Only the awful slime and excrement That sin sheds off will own thee for a man. Only the worms in dead men’s bowels that crawl To lick a loathlier brother are content. 73
…hich these pearls were cast. This volume meets the crying need of millions of what some people w// call “undergrads.” The price for Cash will be One Shilling, for Credit One Thousand Guineas, in the proportion familiar? to all “scions of Alma Mater,” as some other people always say. Damn ’em|!
…t the bill confront- Eth, “Bitte, Herr, bezahlen! ” And if you call the waitress neat “ Mein liebchen—little darlin’ !” Her pretty mouth will murmur sweet, “O bitte, Herr, bezahlen !” And when your guide, divinely drunk, As helpless as a carline. Deserts the party in a funk, Yet “ Bitte, Herr, bezahlen !” 50
…defying, Was rude, his impertinent bust Was shattered. The Editor, trying To write (as an Editor must Though his faculties rapidly rust) Will speak in a manner that’s rough: “You poets deserve to be trussed ! Lord, keep us from reading the stuff!” _ My own little scheme of supplying With fuel the realms of the cussed Is to stoke all the fires with the flying MSS blown that way by a gust A
…, your wheel’s goin’ round !” Though Jack may be followed by Jill, On the slope, a man’s claret to tap ; There’s a way that is made by a will, Like a river turned on from a tap. You may cover the whole of the map, Your face with the sunlight is browned, You smile when boys shout, with a clap,! Hi, Mister, your wheel’s goin’ round !” Thus good is the converse of ill (Such truths are the moralist’s pap), And turbot makes excellent brill ; Verse goes with a tang and a snap. 1 The phrase is adverbial.
…of our chins—“ they are shaggy.” (8) Arolla appears. There were no hearty cheers And no one was anxious about us: “If horrid young fools will break Alpine Club rules ”— In fact, they could get on without us! (9) We sprawled in the sun when the banquet was done (We had feasted on Bouvier 1 and Mauler’”), You said of my knickers—they are not a vicar’s ; It isn’t a hole, it’s a howler ! 1 His champagne. 2 His champagne.
…on their conduct should they lose, to mention how we won (or lost) the sports, and how we battled in the Racquet- Courts. Another column will refer to Fletcher, and technicalities of thwart and stretcher, and how the wind— I almost might have written this article within the groves of Ditton before the race was won (so easy is it scenes to describe without an actual visit to the stern waters of the Thames at Hammersmith or at Mortlake). In the noblest grammar, with hardly any words really misspelt at all, I could describe how neither coxswain fe…