 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
THE “BRITISH ASS.” 1888.
There was a great nation so free,
That they could but in one thing agree;
For the worshipped an Ass,
In a Palace of Brass,
And they played to it fiddle-de-dee.
That they could but in one thing agree;
For the worshipped an Ass,
In a Palace of Brass,
And they played to it fiddle-de-dee.
539
For they made it their guardian and god,
And burnt incense wherever it trod;
And whate'er it might bid,
Still they cheerfully did,
All the better because it was odd.
And burnt incense wherever it trod;
And whate'er it might bid,
Still they cheerfully did,
All the better because it was odd.
And they danced in its honour all night,
And belauded its beauty and might;
When they told it to bray,
It never said nay,
With lungs stethoscopically right.
And belauded its beauty and might;
When they told it to bray,
It never said nay,
With lungs stethoscopically right.
And they treasured each saying so well,
Which from its omniscience fell,
That they spread it abroad
At the point of the sword,
To the sound of the funeral bell.
Which from its omniscience fell,
That they spread it abroad
At the point of the sword,
To the sound of the funeral bell.
For this was their jubilant creed,
They imposed on the nations in need,
(Though they flattered with flowers
All the prosperous Powers),
“Believe in the Ass, or be d---d.”
They imposed on the nations in need,
(Though they flattered with flowers
All the prosperous Powers),
“Believe in the Ass, or be d---d.”
It had prophets and priests not a few,
The Gentile and even the Jew;
And the Celt on it sat,
With his reasoning pat,
And expounded at length all it knew.
The Gentile and even the Jew;
And the Celt on it sat,
With his reasoning pat,
And expounded at length all it knew.
The people who listened were pleased,
They blessed it whenever it sneezed,
Though away with soft soap
It washed every hope,
And swore that their burdens were eased.
They blessed it whenever it sneezed,
Though away with soft soap
It washed every hope,
And swore that their burdens were eased.
And they sang to it all the day long,
Though their language was certainly strong,
“O ye people who pass,
“Bow down to the Ass,
“That preserves us from ruin and wrong.”
Though their language was certainly strong,
“O ye people who pass,
“Bow down to the Ass,
“That preserves us from ruin and wrong.”
In seasons of danger or drouth,
The Ass would then open its mouth,
And would lighten their fears
With its sapient ears,
Which it stretched from the north to the south.
The Ass would then open its mouth,
And would lighten their fears
With its sapient ears,
Which it stretched from the north to the south.
Though learnèd in Art, yet in science
It inspired them with greater reliance;
For it humoured their pride,
And each prejudice plied,
And set common sense at defiance.
It inspired them with greater reliance;
For it humoured their pride,
And each prejudice plied,
And set common sense at defiance.
540
It said, with a dignified mien,
That man once a monkey had been,
Who lacked freedom of will,
And could only fulfil,
The part of a clumsy machine.
That man once a monkey had been,
Who lacked freedom of will,
And could only fulfil,
The part of a clumsy machine.
If its arguments ever were lame,
It would coin some new ponderous name,
And bid them all grovel
Before what was novel,
And glory the most in their shame.
It would coin some new ponderous name,
And bid them all grovel
Before what was novel,
And glory the most in their shame.
And the prophets and priests, as was meet,
Sat in solemn array at its feet,
And applauded the Ass
In its Palace of Brass,
That made wisdom so simple and sweet.
Sat in solemn array at its feet,
And applauded the Ass
In its Palace of Brass,
That made wisdom so simple and sweet.
And it had such an crudite store,
To varnish its ignorance o'er,
That even when it blundered
The people still wondered,
And believed it and honoured it more.
To varnish its ignorance o'er,
That even when it blundered
The people still wondered,
And believed it and honoured it more.
Now once in the course of the year,
It tickled the popular ear,
By propounding some riddle,
Whatever could diddle
The fools who delighted to hear.
It tickled the popular ear,
By propounding some riddle,
Whatever could diddle
The fools who delighted to hear.
And its votaries eagerly prest,
From the bounds of the east and the west,
To receive its last bray,
And some new-fangled way
Where with they were wont to be blest.
From the bounds of the east and the west,
To receive its last bray,
And some new-fangled way
Where with they were wont to be blest.
And at last when the Jubilee fell,
It had something especial to tell;
And all its chief men,
At the platform and pen,
Blew their trumpets uncommonly well
It had something especial to tell;
And all its chief men,
At the platform and pen,
Blew their trumpets uncommonly well
But the greatest, as any could see,
Was the mighty Sir W.T.,
The high-priest of the Ass
In its Palace of Brass,
Who discoursed on the wonders to be.
Was the mighty Sir W.T.,
The high-priest of the Ass
In its Palace of Brass,
Who discoursed on the wonders to be.
He predicted the glorious stage,
Of a new and electrical age,
When things would be done,
Without help of the sun,
From cooking to printing a page.
Of a new and electrical age,
When things would be done,
Without help of the sun,
From cooking to printing a page.
541
So he merrily beat on his drum,
And unfolded the glory to come,
When the others would plough
And go milking the cow,
By the light of the science of Some.
And unfolded the glory to come,
When the others would plough
And go milking the cow,
By the light of the science of Some.
And at last he became so prophetic,
When he spoke of our stores energetic,
That he ventured to guess he
Could make posse be esse,
And our life all electro-magnetic.
When he spoke of our stores energetic,
That he ventured to guess he
Could make posse be esse,
And our life all electro-magnetic.
His tale was of mystical forces,
That came from more marvellous sources,
And flew thousands of miles
Over oceans and isles,
And made useless our engines and horses.
That came from more marvellous sources,
And flew thousands of miles
Over oceans and isles,
And made useless our engines and horses.
He said at that jubilant hour,
There was nought like transmission of power,
And that even Niagara,
Which was thought such a staggerer.
Could be tamed for the parlour and bower.
There was nought like transmission of power,
And that even Niagara,
Which was thought such a staggerer.
Could be tamed for the parlour and bower.
Still he sang in his happier vein,
Of the triumphs of what he called brain,
As did Hoaxley and Spindle,
Who delighted to swindle
Poor starvelings with chaff they thought grain.
Of the triumphs of what he called brain,
As did Hoaxley and Spindle,
Who delighted to swindle
Poor starvelings with chaff they thought grain.
Though, alack! the few fools who would foster
Yet doubts, and yet said “Pater Noster,”
Swore the Palace of Brass
Was a plaything of Glass,
And the Beast was but an Impostor.
Yet doubts, and yet said “Pater Noster,”
Swore the Palace of Brass
Was a plaything of Glass,
And the Beast was but an Impostor.
Not so many a prophet and priest,
Who all sounded the praise of the Beast,
And enlarged without fears
On the length of its ears,
And the reason it spread for a feast.
Who all sounded the praise of the Beast,
And enlarged without fears
On the length of its ears,
And the reason it spread for a feast.
And before the decline of the day,
So supreme was the asinine sway,
That the folks of all classes
Were transformed into asses,
And themselves began also to bray.
So supreme was the asinine sway,
That the folks of all classes
Were transformed into asses,
And themselves began also to bray.
“Bray! bray! bray!
While the enemy comes to the door;
Bray! bray! bray!
While our science is starving the poor.
While the enemy comes to the door;
Bray! bray! bray!
While our science is starving the poor.
542
It's oh! such a victory too,
To brag of philosoph's sway,
And if all we are going to do;
There is nothing like learning to bray.”
To brag of philosoph's sway,
And if all we are going to do;
There is nothing like learning to bray.”
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |