The literary remains of the late Willis Gaylord Clark Including the Ollapodiana Papers, the Spirit Of Life, and a selection from his various prose and poetical writings |
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ODE TO BOGLE.
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 | The literary remains of the late Willis Gaylord Clark |  |
239
ODE TO BOGLE.
DEDICATED, WITH PERMISSION, AND A PIECE OF MINT-STICK, TO META B---, AGED FOUR YEARS.
‘Restituit rem cunctando.’—
Eun. Ap. Cicero.
Eun. Ap. Cicero.
‘Of Brownis and of Bogilis ful is this buke.’—
Gawin Douglas.
Gawin Douglas.
Bogle! not he whose shadow flies
Before a frighted Scotchman's eyes,
But thou of Eighth near Sansom—thou
Colorless color'd man, whose brow
Unmoved the joys of life surveys,
Untouched the gloom of death displays;
Reckless if joy or grief prevail,
Stern, multifarious Bogle, hail!
Before a frighted Scotchman's eyes,
But thou of Eighth near Sansom—thou
Colorless color'd man, whose brow
Unmoved the joys of life surveys,
Untouched the gloom of death displays;
Reckless if joy or grief prevail,
Stern, multifarious Bogle, hail!
Hail may'st thou Bogle, for thy reign
Extends o'er nature's wide domain,
Begins before our earliest breath,
Nor ceases with the hour of death:
Scarce seems the blushing maiden wed,
Unless thy care the supper spread;
Half christened only were that boy,
Whose heathen squalls our ears annoy,
If, supper finished, cakes and wine
Were given by any hand but thine;
And Christian burial e'en were scant,
Unless his aid the Bogle grant.
Lover of pomps! the dead might rise,
And feast upon himself his eyes,
When marshalling the black array,
Thou rul'st the sadness of the day;
Teaching how grief should be genteel,
And legatees should seem to feel.
Death's seneschal! 'tis thine to trace
For each his proper look and place,
How aunts should weep, where uncles stand,
With hostile cousins, hand in hand,
Give matchless gloves, and fitly shape
By length of face the length of crape.
See him erect, with lofty tread,
The dark scarf streaming from his head,
Lead forth his groups in order meet,
And range them, grief-wise in the street;
Presiding o'er the solemn show,
The very Chesterfield of wo.
Evil to him should bear the pall,
Yet comes two late or not at all;
Wo to the mourner who shall stray
One inch beyond the trim array;
Still worse, the kinsman who shall move,
Until thy signal voice approve.
Extends o'er nature's wide domain,
Begins before our earliest breath,
Nor ceases with the hour of death:
Scarce seems the blushing maiden wed,
Unless thy care the supper spread;
Half christened only were that boy,
Whose heathen squalls our ears annoy,
If, supper finished, cakes and wine
Were given by any hand but thine;
And Christian burial e'en were scant,
Unless his aid the Bogle grant.
Lover of pomps! the dead might rise,
And feast upon himself his eyes,
When marshalling the black array,
Thou rul'st the sadness of the day;
Teaching how grief should be genteel,
And legatees should seem to feel.
Death's seneschal! 'tis thine to trace
For each his proper look and place,
How aunts should weep, where uncles stand,
With hostile cousins, hand in hand,
Give matchless gloves, and fitly shape
By length of face the length of crape.
See him erect, with lofty tread,
The dark scarf streaming from his head,
Lead forth his groups in order meet,
240
Presiding o'er the solemn show,
The very Chesterfield of wo.
Evil to him should bear the pall,
Yet comes two late or not at all;
Wo to the mourner who shall stray
One inch beyond the trim array;
Still worse, the kinsman who shall move,
Until thy signal voice approve.
Let widows, anxious to fulfil,
(For the first time,) the dear man's will,
Lovers and lawyers ill at ease,
For bliss deferr'd, or loss of fees,
Or heirs impatient of delay,
Chafe inly at his formal stay;
The Bogle heeds not; firm and true,
Resolved to give the dead his due,
No jot of honor will he bate,
Nor stir towards the church-yard gate,
Till the last parson is at hand,
And every hat has got its band.
Before his stride the town gives way—
Beggars and belles confess his sway;
Drays, prudes, and sweeps, a startled mass,
Rein up to let his cortége pass,
And Death himself, that ceaseless dun,
Who waits on all, yet waits for none,
Rebuked beneath his haughty tone,
Scarce dares to call his life his own.
(For the first time,) the dear man's will,
Lovers and lawyers ill at ease,
For bliss deferr'd, or loss of fees,
Or heirs impatient of delay,
Chafe inly at his formal stay;
The Bogle heeds not; firm and true,
Resolved to give the dead his due,
No jot of honor will he bate,
Nor stir towards the church-yard gate,
Till the last parson is at hand,
And every hat has got its band.
Before his stride the town gives way—
Beggars and belles confess his sway;
Drays, prudes, and sweeps, a startled mass,
Rein up to let his cortége pass,
And Death himself, that ceaseless dun,
Who waits on all, yet waits for none,
Rebuked beneath his haughty tone,
Scarce dares to call his life his own.
Nor less, stupendous man! thy power,
In festal than in funeral hour,
When gas and beauty's blended rays
Set hearts and ball-rooms in a blaze;
Or spermaceti's light reveals
More ‘inward bruises’ than it heals;
In flames each belle her victim kills,
And ‘sparks fly upward’ in quadrilles,
Like iceberg in an Indian clime,
Refreshing Bogle breathes sublime,
Cool airs upon that sultry stream,
From Roman punch or frosted cream
In festal than in funeral hour,
When gas and beauty's blended rays
Set hearts and ball-rooms in a blaze;
Or spermaceti's light reveals
More ‘inward bruises’ than it heals;
In flames each belle her victim kills,
And ‘sparks fly upward’ in quadrilles,
Like iceberg in an Indian clime,
Refreshing Bogle breathes sublime,
Cool airs upon that sultry stream,
From Roman punch or frosted cream
So, sadly social, when we flee
From milky talk and watery tea,
To dance by inches in that strait
Betwixt a side-board and a grate,
With rug uplift, and blower tight,
'Gainst that foul fire-fiend, anthracite,
Then Bogle o'er the weary hours
A world of sweets incessant showers,
Till, blest relief from noise and foam,
The farewell pound-cake warns us home
Wide opes the crowd to let thee pass,
And hail the music of thy glass.
Drowning all other sounds, e'en those
From Bollman or Sigoigne that rose;
From Chapman's self some eye will stray
To rival charms upon thy tray,
Which thou dispensest with an air,
As life or death depended there.
Wo for the luckless wretch, whose back
Has stood against a window crack,
And then impartial, cool'st in turn
The youth whom love and Lehigh burn.
On Johnson's smooth and placid mien
A quaint and fitful smile is seen;
O'er Shepherd's pale romantic face,
A radiant simper we may trace;
But on the Bogle's steadfast cheek,
Lugubrious thoughts their presence speak.
His very smile, serenely stern,
As lighted lachrymary urn.
In church or state, in bower and hall,
He gives with equal face to all:
The wedding cake, the funeral crape,
The mourning glove, the festal grape;
In the same tone when crowd's disperse,
Calls Powell's hack, or Carter's hearse;
As gently grave, as sadly grim,
At the quick waltz as funeral hymn.
From milky talk and watery tea,
To dance by inches in that strait
Betwixt a side-board and a grate,
With rug uplift, and blower tight,
'Gainst that foul fire-fiend, anthracite,
Then Bogle o'er the weary hours
A world of sweets incessant showers,
Till, blest relief from noise and foam,
The farewell pound-cake warns us home
Wide opes the crowd to let thee pass,
And hail the music of thy glass.
241
From Bollman or Sigoigne that rose;
From Chapman's self some eye will stray
To rival charms upon thy tray,
Which thou dispensest with an air,
As life or death depended there.
Wo for the luckless wretch, whose back
Has stood against a window crack,
And then impartial, cool'st in turn
The youth whom love and Lehigh burn.
On Johnson's smooth and placid mien
A quaint and fitful smile is seen;
O'er Shepherd's pale romantic face,
A radiant simper we may trace;
But on the Bogle's steadfast cheek,
Lugubrious thoughts their presence speak.
His very smile, serenely stern,
As lighted lachrymary urn.
In church or state, in bower and hall,
He gives with equal face to all:
The wedding cake, the funeral crape,
The mourning glove, the festal grape;
In the same tone when crowd's disperse,
Calls Powell's hack, or Carter's hearse;
As gently grave, as sadly grim,
At the quick waltz as funeral hymn.
Thou social Fabius! since the day,
When Rome was saved by wise delay,
None else has found the happy chance,
By always waiting, to advance.
Let time and tide, coquettes so rude,
Pass on, yet hope to be pursued,
Thy gentler nature waits on all;
When parties rage, on thee they call,
Who seek no office in the state,
Content, while others push, to wait.
When Rome was saved by wise delay,
None else has found the happy chance,
By always waiting, to advance.
Let time and tide, coquettes so rude,
Pass on, yet hope to be pursued,
Thy gentler nature waits on all;
When parties rage, on thee they call,
Who seek no office in the state,
Content, while others push, to wait.
Yet, (not till Providence bestowed
On Adam's sons McAdam's road,)
Unstumbling foot was rarely given
To man nor beast when quickly driven;
And they do say, but this I doubt,
For seldom he lets things leak out,
They do say, ere the dances close,
His too are ‘light fantastic toes;’
Oh, if this be so, Bogle! then
How are we served by serving men.
A waiter by his weight forsaken!
An undertaker—overtaken!
On Adam's sons McAdam's road,)
Unstumbling foot was rarely given
To man nor beast when quickly driven;
And they do say, but this I doubt,
For seldom he lets things leak out,
They do say, ere the dances close,
His too are ‘light fantastic toes;’
Oh, if this be so, Bogle! then
How are we served by serving men.
A waiter by his weight forsaken!
An undertaker—overtaken!
L'ENVOI.
Meta! thy riper years may knowMore of this world's fantastic show;
In thy time, as in mine, shall be,
242
Rooms shall be hot, and ices cold;
And flirts be both, as 't was of old;
Love, too, and mint-stick shall be made,
Some dearly bought, some lightly weighed;
As true the hearts, the forms as fair,
And equal joy and grace be there,
The smile as bright, as soft the ogle,
But never—never such a Bogle!
| The literary remains of the late Willis Gaylord Clark | |