Ballads for the Times (Now first collected,) Geraldine, A Modern Pyramid, Bartenus, A Thousand Lines, and other poems. By Martin F. Tupper. A new Edition, enlarged and revised |
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| IV. | IV.— The “International.”
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 | Ballads for the Times |  |
458
IV.— The “International.”
Charles Lester! a noble and generous mind,
I pray you to print what I send you,
Nor count it a matter unwise and unkind,
Because to your face I commend you;
I love what I love, and I hate what I hate,
And I speak what I choose to be spoken,
As free as your free and imperial state,
And as cordial—by the same token.
I pray you to print what I send you,
Nor count it a matter unwise and unkind,
Because to your face I commend you;
I love what I love, and I hate what I hate,
And I speak what I choose to be spoken,
As free as your free and imperial state,
And as cordial—by the same token.
To-day I've concluded to throw into rhyme
A welcome to this your endeavour
To bind in a friendship sincere and sublime
Two nations for ever and ever!
Two nations? why two? They are one, true and fast,
A Mother, well-blest in a Daughter;
The bygones of both are in ages long past,
Their future is—over the water.
A welcome to this your endeavour
To bind in a friendship sincere and sublime
Two nations for ever and ever!
Two nations? why two? They are one, true and fast,
A Mother, well-blest in a Daughter;
The bygones of both are in ages long past,
Their future is—over the water.
You know me of old, a “proverbial” friend,
A “pyramid-climber” and “poet,”
Of great “probabilities” some to offend,
And “heart” enough always to show it;
With a small “crock of gold,” an “authorial mind,”
And “twins,” and a rare lot of ba-bi-es,
And a spirit [not wife] that was never confined,
Except with poetical ra-bi-es.
A “pyramid-climber” and “poet,”
Of great “probabilities” some to offend,
And “heart” enough always to show it;
With a small “crock of gold,” an “authorial mind,”
And “twins,” and a rare lot of ba-bi-es,
And a spirit [not wife] that was never confined,
Except with poetical ra-bi-es.
459
So, trust me to speak to the toast of to-day,—
“Your New International! vivat!”
A very good thought, let a Britisher say,
For Jonathan's mind to arrive at:
I wot not, how should I? the name that you give
To your frank and fraternal endeavour;
But, liking the fancy, I shout, “May it live,
With editor Lester, for ever!”
“Your New International! vivat!”
A very good thought, let a Britisher say,
For Jonathan's mind to arrive at:
I wot not, how should I? the name that you give
To your frank and fraternal endeavour;
But, liking the fancy, I shout, “May it live,
With editor Lester, for ever!”
You'll see me some day, (and I may as well fling
This advertisement into your pages,)
A homesick, and seasick, and travelsick thing
Haul'd over to visit your sages!
Your Irving, and Willis, and Webster, and Poe;
Your Longfellow, Bryant, and Prescott,
And fifty good fellows I'm longing to know,
With each a good heart in his waistcoat.
This advertisement into your pages,)
A homesick, and seasick, and travelsick thing
Haul'd over to visit your sages!
Your Irving, and Willis, and Webster, and Poe;
Your Longfellow, Bryant, and Prescott,
And fifty good fellows I'm longing to know,
With each a good heart in his waistcoat.
There's Fuller besides, and Sigourney, and Childs,
And all of the rest of the Muses;
And Stephens, released from his Yucatan wilds,
And Dana, forgetting his cruises;
And “Puritan fathers” and sons by the score,
And many a friendly Far-Wester;
And Abbot and Anthon, and three dozen more,
Dodge, Matthews, and Edwards, and—Lester.
And all of the rest of the Muses;
And Stephens, released from his Yucatan wilds,
And Dana, forgetting his cruises;
And “Puritan fathers” and sons by the score,
And many a friendly Far-Wester;
And Abbot and Anthon, and three dozen more,
Dodge, Matthews, and Edwards, and—Lester.
Then bless us! I want to be going to Court
To pay my respects to king Taylor:
Don't kill him, good Brutus! 'Twas only in sport,
So don't let it make you look paler;
No king, but a colleague of highminded men
Set over your heads for good reason,
To pilot the state and be captain,—and then
To come Cincinnatus in season.
To pay my respects to king Taylor:
Don't kill him, good Brutus! 'Twas only in sport,
So don't let it make you look paler;
460
Set over your heads for good reason,
To pilot the state and be captain,—and then
To come Cincinnatus in season.
I'm a Tory, you know, and a monarchy man,
And think that “legitimate” steering
Is something more shipshape and sailorlike than
Con-tin-u-al e-lect-ion-eer-ing:
Yet, honestly, brother, I hardly see how
Your fathers could well have done better
Than choose their own rulers, as you do it now,
Without the old royalist fetter.
And think that “legitimate” steering
Is something more shipshape and sailorlike than
Con-tin-u-al e-lect-ion-eer-ing:
Yet, honestly, brother, I hardly see how
Your fathers could well have done better
Than choose their own rulers, as you do it now,
Without the old royalist fetter.
So, say to your Governor, say it for me,
That Jonathan's brother salutes him;
And wishes him honour; and glad will he be
To pay him as much,—when it suits him:
I'm free as you see; and enlighten'd, a few,—
For I dare to call no man my master:
So, Lester, I sympathise truly with you,
Remaining your warm poetaster.
That Jonathan's brother salutes him;
And wishes him honour; and glad will he be
To pay him as much,—when it suits him:
I'm free as you see; and enlighten'd, a few,—
For I dare to call no man my master:
So, Lester, I sympathise truly with you,
Remaining your warm poetaster.
| Ballads for the Times | |