The Poems of John Byrom :: :: University of Virginia Library

“Tale?” That will raise the Question, I suppose:
“What can the Meaning be of the three black Crows?”
It is a London Story, you must know,
And happen'd, as they say, some Time ago.
The Meaning of it Custom would suppress,
Till at the End;—but come, nevertheless,
Tho' it may vary from the Use of old
To tell the Moral till the Tale be told,
We'll give a Hint, for once, how to apply
The Meaning, first—and hang the Tale thereby.

II.

People full oft are put into a Pother,
For want of understanding one another;
And strange, amusing Stories creep about,
That come to Nothing, if you trace them out;
Lies of the Day, or Month perhaps, or Year,
That serve their Purpose and then disappear;
From which, meanwhile, Disputes of ev'ry Size,
That is to say, Misunderstandings, rise,
The Springs of Ill, from Bick'ring up to Battle,
From Wars and Tumults down to Tittle-Tattle:
Such as, for Instance (for we need not roam
Far off to find them, but come nearer Home)
Such as befall by sudden misdivining
On Cuts, on Coals, on Boxes, and on Signing,

153

Or (may good Sense avert such hasty Ills
From this Foundation, this Assembly),—Mills!
It may, at least it should, correct a Zeal
That hurts the public or the private Weal,
By eager giving of too rash Assent,
To note, how Meanings that were never meant
Will fly about, like so many black Crows,
Of that same Breed of which the Story goes.

III.

Two honest Tradesmen meeting in the Strand,
One took the other briskly by the Hand;
“Hark-ye,” said he, “'tis an odd Story this
About the Crows!”—“I don't know what it is,”
Replied his Friend.—“No? I'm surprised at that;
Where I come from it is the common Chat.
But you shall hear:—an odd Affair indeed!
And, that it happen'd, they are All agreed.
Not to detain you from a Thing so strange,
A Gentlemen, that lives not far from 'Change,
This Week, in short, as all the Alley knows,
Taking a Puke, has thrown up Three black Crows.”

IV.

“Impossible!” “Nay, but it's really true;
I have it from good Hands, and so may You.”

154

“From whose, I pray?”—So, having nam'd the Man,
Straight to enquire his curious Comrade ran.
“Sir, did you tell”—relating the Affair—
“Yes, Sir, I did; and if it's worth your Care,
Ask Mr. Such a-one, he told it me;—
But, by the Bye, 'twas Two black Crows, not Three.”

V.

Resolv'd to trace so wond'rous an Event,
Whip, to the third the Virtuoso went.
“Sir”—and so forth;—“Why yes; the Thing is Fact,
Tho' in regard to Number not exact:
It was not Two black Crows, 'twas only One:
The Truth of that you may depend upon.
The Gentleman himself told me the Case.”
“Where may I find him?”—“Why, in such a Place.”

VI.

Away goes he, and having found him out:
“Sir, be so good as to resolve a Doubt.”
Then to his last Informant he referr'd,
And begg'd to know, if true what he had heard;
“Did you, Sir, throw up a black Crow?”—“Not I!”
“Bless me, how People propagate a Lie!
Black Crows have been thrown up, Three, Two and One;
And here, I find, all comes at last to None!

155

Did you say Nothing of a Crow at all?”—
“Crow? Crow?—perhaps I might, now I recall
The Matter over.”—“And, pray Sir, what was't?”—
“Why, I was horrid sick, and, at the last,
I did throw up, and told my Neighbour so,
Something that was—as black, Sir, as a Crow.”