The Dance of Life A Poem, by the author of "Doctor Syntax;%" [i.e. William Combe] Illustrated with coloured engravings, by Thomas Rowlandson |
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 | CHAPTER I. INFANCY. The Dance of Life |  |
“Now, for a while, in mournful mood,
“She, like a marble statue stood,
“And, with one arm uplift in air,
“As if she breath'd a silent prayer:
“Then, having from the aged Yew,
“Pluck'd a small branch, she slow withdrew:
“But e'er the Church-yard gate she pass'd,
“Turning, as if to look her last.
“She rais'd her veil with solemn grace;
“When I beheld her charming face:
“It was, to make its beauty known—
“It was, as lovely as your own.
“—The horses which the carriage drew,
“Went off so swift as if they flew:
“And, indeed, this is all, I know
“Of the good Curate's tale of woe.
“—Were I to live, I well may say,
“Until the Resurrection Day,
“Nought from my mem'ry could remove
“His hapless Lot, who died for Love.”
Lady ---.
Nurse.
“She, like a marble statue stood,
“And, with one arm uplift in air,
“As if she breath'd a silent prayer:
“Then, having from the aged Yew,
“Pluck'd a small branch, she slow withdrew:
“But e'er the Church-yard gate she pass'd,
“Turning, as if to look her last.
“She rais'd her veil with solemn grace;
“When I beheld her charming face:
“It was, to make its beauty known—
“It was, as lovely as your own.
“—The horses which the carriage drew,
“Went off so swift as if they flew:
“And, indeed, this is all, I know
“Of the good Curate's tale of woe.
44
“Until the Resurrection Day,
“Nought from my mem'ry could remove
“His hapless Lot, who died for Love.”
Lady ---.
“'Tis a sad story, I must own;
“Aud he must have a heart of stone
“Who does not kindly sympathize
“With pitying thought, or wat'ry eyes.
“—And now, unless too hard the task,
“If it were not too much to ask,
“Rehearse me, if you still have breath,
“The verses on Nurse Jenkins' Death.”
“Aud he must have a heart of stone
“Who does not kindly sympathize
“With pitying thought, or wat'ry eyes.
“—And now, unless too hard the task,
“If it were not too much to ask,
“Rehearse me, if you still have breath,
“The verses on Nurse Jenkins' Death.”
Nurse.
“My husband, Heaven preserve his soul,
“Was, like a merry Andrew, droll;
“And stories told, brought home from sea,
“With so much mirth and pleasantry,
“That till night came, and often after,
“He kept us in a roar of laughter.
“—He, I must own, was us'd to say,
“All in his lively, gamesome way,
“That my tongue wagg'd throughout the day;
“But never heard it yet complain,
“It did not want to wag again.
“If, he would say, his legs could walk
“As long as that same tongue could talk,
“He should the first Pedestrian be
“That e'er mov'd foot, or bent a knee.
“—I wish not to give John the lie
“Now he is dead; so I'll e'en try
“To speak Nurse Jenkins' Elegy.
“—'Tis not a Ballad, nor a Song;
“But 'tis a verse, and rather long;
“Though I oft say it all throughout,
“As my hand turns the wheel about:
“I've sung it to this Baby too,
“And now I'll chaunt it forth to you.
“As in arm-chair she sits at ease,
“I hope it will my Lady please.”
“Was, like a merry Andrew, droll;
“And stories told, brought home from sea,
“With so much mirth and pleasantry,
“That till night came, and often after,
“He kept us in a roar of laughter.
45
“All in his lively, gamesome way,
“That my tongue wagg'd throughout the day;
“But never heard it yet complain,
“It did not want to wag again.
“If, he would say, his legs could walk
“As long as that same tongue could talk,
“He should the first Pedestrian be
“That e'er mov'd foot, or bent a knee.
“—I wish not to give John the lie
“Now he is dead; so I'll e'en try
“To speak Nurse Jenkins' Elegy.
“—'Tis not a Ballad, nor a Song;
“But 'tis a verse, and rather long;
“Though I oft say it all throughout,
“As my hand turns the wheel about:
“I've sung it to this Baby too,
“And now I'll chaunt it forth to you.
“As in arm-chair she sits at ease,
“I hope it will my Lady please.”
| CHAPTER I. INFANCY. The Dance of Life | |