The Poetical Works of Hector MacNeill ... A New Edition, Corrected and Enlarged. In Two Volumes |
 | I. |
THE WHIP,
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| II. |
 | The Poetical Works of Hector MacNeill |  |
72
THE WHIP,
OR, A TOUCH AT THE TIMES.
Quæ fuerant vitia mores sunt.
Seneca.
Ere modest virtue lost her way
Among the dissolute and gay,
Few modes were used for travel;
Unknown to whip, or spur, or boot,
Each hardy Briton trudged on foot,
Through mud, bog, dust, and gravel.
Among the dissolute and gay,
Few modes were used for travel;
Unknown to whip, or spur, or boot,
Each hardy Briton trudged on foot,
Through mud, bog, dust, and gravel.
73
'Twas then the fair, as story tells,
(Ah! how unlike our modern belles!)
Knew neither coach nor saddle;
No female Phaetonians then
Surpassed the boldest of our men
In gesture, look, and straddle.
(Ah! how unlike our modern belles!)
Knew neither coach nor saddle;
No female Phaetonians then
Surpassed the boldest of our men
In gesture, look, and straddle.
But formed by nature's artless hand,
Blushes, 'tis said, at her command,
Oft stole o'er beauty's features:
No wife then scorned domestic sweets;
No daughter Jehu! scoured the streets;
Good lord! what simple creatures!
Blushes, 'tis said, at her command,
Oft stole o'er beauty's features:
No wife then scorned domestic sweets;
No daughter Jehu! scoured the streets;
Good lord! what simple creatures!
74
Emerged at length from gothic rules,
Our fair ones, trained in happier schools,
For blushes, now give fashion;
Each modest virtue thrown aside,
Behold! like men, erect, astride!
They drive!—they whip!—they dash on!
Our fair ones, trained in happier schools,
For blushes, now give fashion;
Each modest virtue thrown aside,
Behold! like men, erect, astride!
They drive!—they whip!—they dash on!
O! may the glorious day arrive,
When each bold lass her nag shall drive
O'er hedges, gates, and ditches!
Despise the housewife's hateful lot,
And change the useless petticoat
For boots and buckskin breeches!
When each bold lass her nag shall drive
O'er hedges, gates, and ditches!
Despise the housewife's hateful lot,
And change the useless petticoat
For boots and buckskin breeches!
75
Yet heterogeneous as they are,
Half man—half woman—half centaur,
Some grave folks dread infection:
See! virtue, trembling, flies the land!
Alas! 'gainst furious four in hand,
No common whip's protection!
Half man—half woman—half centaur,
Some grave folks dread infection:
See! virtue, trembling, flies the land!
Alas! 'gainst furious four in hand,
No common whip's protection!
Struck with the thought, I reasoned long,—
‘Eliza, poor thing's, far from strong,
And yet she loves a canter;
Some fierce virago, high in blood,
May lay her sprawling in the mud,
Or in a hedge-row plant her!
‘Eliza, poor thing's, far from strong,
And yet she loves a canter;
Some fierce virago, high in blood,
May lay her sprawling in the mud,
Or in a hedge-row plant her!
76
‘What then remains the weak to shield?
Must freedom thus her charter yield?—
Has beauty no defender?
—Alas! no bosom swells with rage!—
There's nought in this bold dashing age,
But flogging to befriend her!
Must freedom thus her charter yield?—
Has beauty no defender?
—Alas! no bosom swells with rage!—
There's nought in this bold dashing age,
But flogging to befriend her!
‘Since lashing's then the ton, the tip,
And victory now turns on the Whip,
The toughest whip should win;
And as we know in each hard bout,
The ‘toughest hide holds longest out,‘
I'll find—a whip of skin.’
And victory now turns on the Whip,
The toughest whip should win;
And as we know in each hard bout,
The ‘toughest hide holds longest out,‘
I'll find—a whip of skin.’
77
Pleased with the fancy, swift I sped,
Mad with the project in my head,
I ranged half India o'er;
But hides well beat, are seldom tough:
At last a bit of precious stuff
I found on Afric's shore.
Mad with the project in my head,
I ranged half India o'er;
But hides well beat, are seldom tough:
At last a bit of precious stuff
I found on Afric's shore.
There, by his streams and tangling groves,
The huge Rhinoceros careless roves,
Though growls each savage nigh:
Undaunted, armed with horn and hide,
To ball and dart he turns his side,
Unheeded as they fly.
The huge Rhinoceros careless roves,
Though growls each savage nigh:
Undaunted, armed with horn and hide,
To ball and dart he turns his side,
Unheeded as they fly.
78
But what's the armed, the bold, the strong!
(Again we moralize our song,)
If treachery aims the blow!
Ev'n Samson fell by female wit,
And see! in subtle treachery's pit
The mighty beast lies low.
(Again we moralize our song,)
If treachery aims the blow!
Ev'n Samson fell by female wit,
And see! in subtle treachery's pit
The mighty beast lies low.
Thus fall'n by cunning's sneaking plot,
With joy they strip his horny coat;
('Twas wond'rous to behold!)
‘By heavens!’ I cried, ‘at length I've found
A skin that's proof 'gainst mortal wound!
'Tis worth its weight in gold!’
With joy they strip his horny coat;
('Twas wond'rous to behold!)
‘By heavens!’ I cried, ‘at length I've found
A skin that's proof 'gainst mortal wound!
'Tis worth its weight in gold!’
79
Torn from the side it lately graced,
A slice I cut with eager haste;
A tough, tenacious slip!
And, hurrying home to British land,
Gave it to Kelly, in the Strand ,
Who formed it to a WHIP.
A slice I cut with eager haste;
A tough, tenacious slip!
And, hurrying home to British land,
Gave it to Kelly, in the Strand ,
Who formed it to a WHIP.
Thus armed, with virtue on your side,
Unconquered reign, undaunted ride,
Nor fear e'en Lade or Archer .
Some dame indeed may whoop and crack,
But let Rhinoceros touch her back,
It will both blue and starch her.
Unconquered reign, undaunted ride,
Nor fear e'en Lade or Archer .
Some dame indeed may whoop and crack,
But let Rhinoceros touch her back,
It will both blue and starch her.
80
O, could its virtues but repair
The lungs of thy half-winded mare,
How great would be thy glory!
From Linsted town thy fame would trot,
E'en to the house of Johnny Grot,
In many a marv'lous story.
The lungs of thy half-winded mare,
How great would be thy glory!
From Linsted town thy fame would trot,
E'en to the house of Johnny Grot,
In many a marv'lous story.
Then should we hear in clam'rous boast,
How one young fair one ruled the roast,
As Pitt now rules the nation;
Made female jockies bounce and skip,
And by the power of one famed Whip,
Flogged vice from freedom's station!
How one young fair one ruled the roast,
As Pitt now rules the nation;
Made female jockies bounce and skip,
And by the power of one famed Whip,
Flogged vice from freedom's station!
81
But since, alas! no cure we know,
Since Phill must puff, or you move slow,
Mark well a friend's direction:
Hold fast the reins of female pride,
Whip ev'ry coxcomb from your side,
To listen is—infection.
Since Phill must puff, or you move slow,
Mark well a friend's direction:
Hold fast the reins of female pride,
Whip ev'ry coxcomb from your side,
To listen is—infection.
Yet should the man of worth possest,
Fair candour glowing at his breast,
Confess thy pow'r of charms;
List to his tale, be frank, be kind,
Unfashioned blush to love refined,
And whip—into his arms!
Fair candour glowing at his breast,
Confess thy pow'r of charms;
List to his tale, be frank, be kind,
Unfashioned blush to love refined,
And whip—into his arms!
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