Songs and Lyrics By Joseph Skipsey. Collected and Revised |
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The Posy-Gift.
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 | Songs and Lyrics |  |
136
The Posy-Gift.
1.
[You quite mistake the sprite you chase—]
You quite mistake the sprite you chase—
I'm of the under, not the upper
Order of the fairy race;
And cannot go with you to supper.
I'm of the under, not the upper
Order of the fairy race;
And cannot go with you to supper.
“You silly elf, Titania's self
Will”—Tut, be there! My mirth she quenches;
And her stiff airs kick me downstairs
To my dear kitchen cats and wenches.
Will”—Tut, be there! My mirth she quenches;
And her stiff airs kick me downstairs
To my dear kitchen cats and wenches.
2.
[Ha, ha! last night I served you right]
Ha, ha! last night I served you right;
The kick I gave—tho' I was sorry
I gave it you—but come and view
What will allay your wrath and worry.
The kick I gave—tho' I was sorry
I gave it you—but come and view
What will allay your wrath and worry.
“That posy gay? Well, I daresay—
Who gave it you? A lady?” Truly!
“What lady, pray?” That I will say,
When you have learned your manners duly.
Who gave it you? A lady?” Truly!
“What lady, pray?” That I will say,
When you have learned your manners duly.
137
3.
[These gems of grace unutterable]
These gems of grace unutterable
Were pull'd within her very bowers;
Smell, senseless villain! smell them, smell!
Say didst thou ever smell such flowers?
Were pull'd within her very bowers;
Smell, senseless villain! smell them, smell!
Say didst thou ever smell such flowers?
“Such flowers?”—the fellow seized his hat—
“Such flowers?” he answer'd in derision;
“Well, I've heard questions strange, but that—
I'd better run for—a physician!”
“Such flowers?” he answer'd in derision;
“Well, I've heard questions strange, but that—
I'd better run for—a physician!”
4.
[Come, pretty flowers, and drink my tears]
Come, pretty flowers, and drink my tears;
'Tis well my better reason chided,
Or I had box'd the rascal's ears,
That so the little dears derided!
'Tis well my better reason chided,
Or I had box'd the rascal's ears,
That so the little dears derided!
My ruth, not ire, the wretch demands;
The magic every cup adorning,
How could he feel?—saw he the hands
That placed them into mine this morning?
The magic every cup adorning,
How could he feel?—saw he the hands
That placed them into mine this morning?
138
5.
[What fancies throng into the mind]
What fancies throng into the mind,
When one upon this posy gazeth;
The more I look, the more I find
Some semblance that one quite amazeth.
When one upon this posy gazeth;
The more I look, the more I find
Some semblance that one quite amazeth.
“What semblance, man? to what? to whom?”
Go, lack-a-brain, and sweep the stable;
A wooden head must not presume
To chatter at the Muse's Table!
Go, lack-a-brain, and sweep the stable;
A wooden head must not presume
To chatter at the Muse's Table!
6.
[One fancy kicks another's heel]
One fancy kicks another's heel;
But let us seize one while it trembles
In act to fly, and make't reveal
Wherein each bloom her charms resembles.
But let us seize one while it trembles
In act to fly, and make't reveal
Wherein each bloom her charms resembles.
These violets blue, not filled with dew,
But with my tears—are not these weepers—
“What would you say? her eyes are grey,
And never flash'd two merrier peepers!”
But with my tears—are not these weepers—
“What would you say? her eyes are grey,
And never flash'd two merrier peepers!”
139
7.
[Once more, sweet Muse, a fancy choose]
Once more, sweet Muse, a fancy choose;
Seize by the heels that winged fellow,
And he'll declare how this her hair—
“Her hair is brown, that broom is yellow!”
Seize by the heels that winged fellow,
And he'll declare how this her hair—
“Her hair is brown, that broom is yellow!”
Then that one try, I know he'll cry
This bean-bloom's like her lips. “Sweet booby!
That runner's quite a scarlet bright,
Thy lady's lips are very ruby.”
This bean-bloom's like her lips. “Sweet booby!
That runner's quite a scarlet bright,
Thy lady's lips are very ruby.”
8.
[Go, Musie, go! you like, I know]
Go, Musie, go! you like, I know,
To throw a glamour o'er my vision;
And I but want the truth to chant,
And Truth shall do it with precision!
To throw a glamour o'er my vision;
And I but want the truth to chant,
And Truth shall do it with precision!
He'll not aver this rose-bloom's her,
This lily-bell, he knows not whether,
But he will tell she's lily-bell
And red, red rose-bloom, both together!
This lily-bell, he knows not whether,
But he will tell she's lily-bell
And red, red rose-bloom, both together!
140
9.
[These flowers that so reflect the Grace]
These flowers that so reflect the Grace
Of one who is the Queen of Graces!
I'll pop into my richest vase,
Where I may watch their pretty faces.
Of one who is the Queen of Graces!
I'll pop into my richest vase,
Where I may watch their pretty faces.
And should a fly approach their lips,
Then, Mercy, shield the little sinner;
For if I catch him on the hips,
He'll never need another dinner!
Then, Mercy, shield the little sinner;
For if I catch him on the hips,
He'll never need another dinner!
10.
[All things of beauty seek to draw]
All things of beauty seek to draw
Unto themselves like things of beauty
In homage to an inner law,
And which to own's their bounden duty.
Unto themselves like things of beauty
In homage to an inner law,
And which to own's their bounden duty.
So deems my nose—this beauteous nose!
That out of love and admiration
So oft, before this wall-flower, bows,—
Or homage yields to this carnation.
That out of love and admiration
So oft, before this wall-flower, bows,—
Or homage yields to this carnation.
141
11.
[Come, let me smell thee, lily-bell]
Come, let me smell thee, lily-bell;
Another smell, my silver lily!
And thou, sweet rose, come to my nose—
Ah, whence those feelings, soft and silly?
Another smell, my silver lily!
And thou, sweet rose, come to my nose—
Ah, whence those feelings, soft and silly?
She smell'd you so? the lady? No?
I know she did; her charming nosy
Drew nectar up from every cup,
Before she handed me the posy!
I know she did; her charming nosy
Drew nectar up from every cup,
Before she handed me the posy!
12.
[These lovely blooms, their rich perfumes]
These lovely blooms, their rich perfumes
And many colours, rich and glorious,
My soul illume, o'er care and gloom
To move a king—a king victorious!
And many colours, rich and glorious,
My soul illume, o'er care and gloom
To move a king—a king victorious!
To me things seem, as in a stream,
Or on the person of my idol,
To wear a sheen before unseen,
E'en by the gifted bard of Rydal!
Or on the person of my idol,
To wear a sheen before unseen,
E'en by the gifted bard of Rydal!
142
13.
[Blind as the wretch who mock'd my flowers]
Blind as the wretch who mock'd my flowers;
Or rather mock'd their well-won praises,
And swore what came from Eden-bowers
Were only buttercups and daisies—
Or rather mock'd their well-won praises,
And swore what came from Eden-bowers
Were only buttercups and daisies—
As blind was I till—till—A hare!
The thought is off, nor can I win it
Back to—well, to—I declare
This stave must end with nothing in it!
The thought is off, nor can I win it
Back to—well, to—I declare
This stave must end with nothing in it!
14.
[O dear, dear, dear! what shall ensue?]
O dear, dear, dear! what shall ensue?
My only thoughts are off, that clearly
Might have express'd the praises due
To one I prize, and prize so dearly!
My only thoughts are off, that clearly
Might have express'd the praises due
To one I prize, and prize so dearly!
The wine has vanished, and the lees
To serve up these, would leave one undone,
Not of the flock of chick-a-dees,
That chirrup to the folk of London.
To serve up these, would leave one undone,
Not of the flock of chick-a-dees,
That chirrup to the folk of London.
143
15.
[“Ha, ha! ola! yet phantom led]
“Ha, ha! ola! yet phantom led,
You, with your capers high and airy,
Must kick your heels till, heels o'erhead,
You're kick'd into this fine quandary!
You, with your capers high and airy,
Must kick your heels till, heels o'erhead,
You're kick'd into this fine quandary!
“You banged me off with scorn and scoff,
Then spurn'd the aid—the Muse romantic's—
Dame's bonny brow to crown, and now
You pay the piper for your antics!”
Then spurn'd the aid—the Muse romantic's—
Dame's bonny brow to crown, and now
You pay the piper for your antics!”
16.
['Tis quite a treat, as singer knows]
'Tis quite a treat, as singer knows,
To have to own one's fairly beaten,
And council's held among the crows
To learn how soon one may be eaten.
To have to own one's fairly beaten,
And council's held among the crows
To learn how soon one may be eaten.
The owl also—But, let that go,
And ere, with patience all expended,
You cry Forbear! let me declare
This carol of the Posy ended.
And ere, with patience all expended,
You cry Forbear! let me declare
This carol of the Posy ended.
| Songs and Lyrics | |