The complete poetical works of Thomas Hood Edited, with notes by Walter Jerrold |
APPENDIX J. H. REYNOLDS'S CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE ‘ODES AND ADDRESSES TO GREAT PEOPLE’ (1825) |
The complete poetical works of Thomas Hood | ||
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APPENDIX J. H. REYNOLDS'S CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE ‘ODES AND ADDRESSES TO GREAT PEOPLE’ (1825)
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LINES TO MISS F. KEMBLE ON THE FLOWER SCUFFLE AT COVENT GARDEN THEATRE
BY CURL-PATED HUGH
Make a scramble, gentlemen—make a scramble.’
—Boys at Greenwich.
Well—this flower-strewing I must say is sweet
And I long, Miss Kemble, to throw myself considerably at your feet;
For you've made me a happy man in the scuffle when you jerk'd about the daisies;
And ever since the night you kiss'd your hand to me and the rest of the pit, I've been chuck full of your praises!
And I long, Miss Kemble, to throw myself considerably at your feet;
For you've made me a happy man in the scuffle when you jerk'd about the daisies;
And ever since the night you kiss'd your hand to me and the rest of the pit, I've been chuck full of your praises!
I'm no hand at writing, (though I can say several things that's handsome);
But that ignorance, thank my stars! got me off, when I was tried for forging upon Ransom.
I didn't try to get the flowers, which so many of your ardent admirers were eager to snatch;
But I got a very good going chronometer, and for your sake I'll never part with the watch!
But that ignorance, thank my stars! got me off, when I was tried for forging upon Ransom.
I didn't try to get the flowers, which so many of your ardent admirers were eager to snatch;
But I got a very good going chronometer, and for your sake I'll never part with the watch!
I've several relics from those who got your relics—a snuff-box, a gold snap;
A silver guard and trimmings, from a very eager young chap;
Two coat flaps with linings, from a youth, who, defying blows,
And oaths, and shoves, was snatching at, and I'm sorry to say, missing, the front rose!
A silver guard and trimmings, from a very eager young chap;
Two coat flaps with linings, from a youth, who, defying blows,
And oaths, and shoves, was snatching at, and I'm sorry to say, missing, the front rose!
One aspiring youth out of the country rushed at the wreath like a glutton,
But he retired out of the conflict with only a bachelor's button!
Another in a frenzy fought for the flowers like any thing crazy
But I've got his shirt pin, and he only got two black eyes and a daisy.
But he retired out of the conflict with only a bachelor's button!
Another in a frenzy fought for the flowers like any thing crazy
But I've got his shirt pin, and he only got two black eyes and a daisy.
The thought of you makes me rich—Oh, you're a real friend to the free trade;
You agitate 'em so, and take their attention off—If you'd keep farewelling my fortune'd be made.
Oh! how I shall hate to make white soup of the silver, or part with anything for your sake!
I'll wear the country gentleman's brooch, on your account it's so very pretty a make!
You agitate 'em so, and take their attention off—If you'd keep farewelling my fortune'd be made.
Oh! how I shall hate to make white soup of the silver, or part with anything for your sake!
I'll wear the country gentleman's brooch, on your account it's so very pretty a make!
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I didn't get a bud—indeed, I was just at the moment busy about other things:
I wish you'd allow me to show you a choice assortment of rings—
You understand the allusion; but I'm in earnest—that's what I am;
And though I'm famous a little—domestic happiness is better than all fame!
I wish you'd allow me to show you a choice assortment of rings—
You understand the allusion; but I'm in earnest—that's what I am;
And though I'm famous a little—domestic happiness is better than all fame!
Well—you're going over the water—(it may be my turn one of these days);
Never heed what them foreigners, the Americans, says!
But hoard your heart up till you come back, and if I luckily can
Scrape up enough, you shall find me yours, and a very altered young man!
Never heed what them foreigners, the Americans, says!
But hoard your heart up till you come back, and if I luckily can
Scrape up enough, you shall find me yours, and a very altered young man!
The complete poetical works of Thomas Hood | ||