The Poems and Miscellaneous Compositions of Paul Whitehead With Explanatory Notes on his Writings, and His life written by Captain Edward Thompson. With a Head of the Author, From a Painting by Mr. Gainsborough |
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| THE GYMNASIAD, OR BOXING-MATCH;
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
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 | The Poems and Miscellaneous Compositions of Paul Whitehead |  |
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THE GYMNASIAD, OR BOXING-MATCH;
A very Short, but very Curious EPIC POEM.
WITH THE PROLEGOMENA of SCRIBLERUS TERTIUS, AND NOTES VARIORUM.
------ Nos hæc novimus esse nihil.
Mart.
Mart.
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TO THE MOST PUISSANT and INVINCIBLE Mr. JOHN BROUGHTON.
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BOOK I.
THE ARGUMENT OF THE FIRST BOOK.
THE Invocation, the Proposition, the Night before the Battle described; the Morning opens, and discovers the Multitude hasting to the place of Action; their various Professions, Dignities, &c. illustrated; the Spectators being seated, the youthful Combatants are first introduced; their manner of Fighting displayed; to these succeed the Champions of a higher degree; their superior Abilities marked, some of the most eminent particularly celebrated; mean while, the principal Heroes are represented sitting, and ruminating on the approaching Combat, when the Herald summons them to the Lists.
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Sing, sing, O Muse, the dire contested Fray,
And bloody honours of that dreadful day,
When Phaëton's bold Son (tremendous name)
Dar'd Neptune's Offspring to the Lists of Fame,
What Fury fraught Thee with Ambition's fire,
Ambition, equal foe to Son and Sire?
One, hapless fell by Jove's æthereal arms,
And One, the Triton's mighty pow'r disarms.
And bloody honours of that dreadful day,
When Phaëton's bold Son (tremendous name)
Dar'd Neptune's Offspring to the Lists of Fame,
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Ambition, equal foe to Son and Sire?
One, hapless fell by Jove's æthereal arms,
And One, the Triton's mighty pow'r disarms.
Now all lay hush'd within the folds of night,
And saw in painted dreams th' important fight;
While hopes and fears alternate turn the scales,
And now this Hero, and now that prevails;
Blows and imaginary blood survey,
Then waking, watch the slow approach of day;
When, lo! Aurora in her saffron vest
Darts a glad ray, and gilds the ruddy East.
And saw in painted dreams th' important fight;
While hopes and fears alternate turn the scales,
And now this Hero, and now that prevails;
Blows and imaginary blood survey,
Then waking, watch the slow approach of day;
When, lo! Aurora in her saffron vest
Darts a glad ray, and gilds the ruddy East.
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Forth issuing now all ardent seek the place
Sacred to Fame, and the Athletic race.
As from their Hive the clust'ring Squadrons pour
O'er fragrant meads, to sip the vernal flow'r;
So from each Inn the legal Swarms impel,
Of banded Seers, and Pupils of the Quill.
Senates and Shambles pour forth all their store,
Mindful of mutton, and of laws no more;
E'en money-bills, uncourtly, now must wait,
And the fat lamb has one more day to bleat.
The Highway Knight now draws his pistol's load,
Rests his saint steed, and this day franks the road.
Bailiffs, in crouds, neglect the dormant writ,
And give another Sunday to the Wit:
He too would hie, but, ah! his fortunes frown;
Alas! the fatal passport's—Half-a-crown.
Shoals press on shoals, from palace and from cell;
Lords yield the Court, and Butchers Clerkenwell.
St. Giles's natives, never known to fail,
All who have haply 'scap'd th' obdurate jail;
There many a martial Son of Tott'nham lies,
Bound in Deveilian bands, a sacrifice
To angry Justice, nor must view the prize.
Sacred to Fame, and the Athletic race.
As from their Hive the clust'ring Squadrons pour
O'er fragrant meads, to sip the vernal flow'r;
So from each Inn the legal Swarms impel,
Of banded Seers, and Pupils of the Quill.
Senates and Shambles pour forth all their store,
Mindful of mutton, and of laws no more;
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And the fat lamb has one more day to bleat.
The Highway Knight now draws his pistol's load,
Rests his saint steed, and this day franks the road.
Bailiffs, in crouds, neglect the dormant writ,
And give another Sunday to the Wit:
He too would hie, but, ah! his fortunes frown;
Alas! the fatal passport's—Half-a-crown.
Shoals press on shoals, from palace and from cell;
Lords yield the Court, and Butchers Clerkenwell.
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All who have haply 'scap'd th' obdurate jail;
There many a martial Son of Tott'nham lies,
Bound in Deveilian bands, a sacrifice
To angry Justice, nor must view the prize.
Assembled myriads croud the circling seats,
High for the Combat every bosom beats,
Each bosom partial for its Hero bold,
Partial thro' Friendship—or depending Gold.
High for the Combat every bosom beats,
Each bosom partial for its Hero bold,
Partial thro' Friendship—or depending Gold.
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But first, the infant Progeny of Mars
Join in the lists, and wage their pigmy wars;
Train'd to the manual fight, and bruiseful toil,
The stop defensive, and gymnastic foil,
With nimble fists their early prowess show,
And mark the future Hero in each blow.
Join in the lists, and wage their pigmy wars;
Train'd to the manual fight, and bruiseful toil,
The stop defensive, and gymnastic foil,
With nimble fists their early prowess show,
And mark the future Hero in each blow.
To these, the hardy iron race succeed,
All Sons of Hockley and fierce Brick-street breed:
Mature in valour, and inur'd to blood,
Dauntless each foe in form terrific stood;
Their callous bodies, frequent in the fray,
Mock'd the fell stroke, nor to its force gave way.
'Mongst these Gloverius, not the last in fame,
And he whose Clog delights the beauteous Dame;
Nor least thy praise, whose artificial Light,
In Dian's absence, gilds the clouds of night.
All Sons of Hockley and fierce Brick-street breed:
Mature in valour, and inur'd to blood,
Dauntless each foe in form terrific stood;
Their callous bodies, frequent in the fray,
Mock'd the fell stroke, nor to its force gave way.
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And he whose Clog delights the beauteous Dame;
Nor least thy praise, whose artificial Light,
In Dian's absence, gilds the clouds of night.
While these the Combat's direful arts display,
And share the bloody fortunes of the day,
Each Hero sat, revolving in his soul
The various means that might his foe controul;
Conquest and Glory each proud bosom warms,
When, lo! the Herald summons them to arms.
And share the bloody fortunes of the day,
Each Hero sat, revolving in his soul
The various means that might his foe controul;
Conquest and Glory each proud bosom warms,
When, lo! the Herald summons them to arms.
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BOOK II.
THE ARGUMENT OF THE SECOND BOOK.
STEPHENSON enters the Lists; a description of his Figure; an encomium on his Abilities, with respect to the character of Coachman. Broughton advances; his reverend Form described; his superior skill in the management of the Lighter and Wherry display'd; his triumph of the Badge celebrated; his Speech; his former Victories recounted; the preparation for the Combat, and the horror of the Spectators.
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First, to the Fight, advanc'd the Charioteer:
High hopes of glory on his brow appear;
Terror vindictive flashes from his eye,
(To one the Fates the visual ray deny);
Fierce glow'd his looks, which spoke his inward rage;
He leaps the bar, and bounds upon the stage.
The roofs re-eccho with exulting cries,
And all behold him with admiring eyes.
Ill-fated Youth! what rash desires could warm
Thy manly heart, to dare the Triton's arm?
Ah! too unequal to these martial deeds,
Tho' none more skill'd to rule the foaming Steeds.
The Coursers, still obedient to thy rein,
Now urge their flight, or now their flight restrain.
Had mighty Diomed provok'd the Race,
Thou far had'st left the Grecian in disgrace.
Where-e'er you drove, each Inn confess'd your sway,
Maids brought the dram, and Ostlers flew with hay.
But know, tho' skill'd to guide the rapid Car,
None wages like thy foe the Manual War.
High hopes of glory on his brow appear;
Terror vindictive flashes from his eye,
(To one the Fates the visual ray deny);
Fierce glow'd his looks, which spoke his inward rage;
He leaps the bar, and bounds upon the stage.
The roofs re-eccho with exulting cries,
And all behold him with admiring eyes.
Ill-fated Youth! what rash desires could warm
Thy manly heart, to dare the Triton's arm?
Ah! too unequal to these martial deeds,
Tho' none more skill'd to rule the foaming Steeds.
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Now urge their flight, or now their flight restrain.
Had mighty Diomed provok'd the Race,
Thou far had'st left the Grecian in disgrace.
Where-e'er you drove, each Inn confess'd your sway,
Maids brought the dram, and Ostlers flew with hay.
But know, tho' skill'd to guide the rapid Car,
None wages like thy foe the Manual War.
Now Neptune's Offspring dreadfully serene,
Of size gigantic, and tremendous mien,
Steps forth, and 'midst the fated Lists appears;
Rev'rend his form, but yet not worn with years.
To him none equal, in his youthful day,
With feather'd Oar to skim the liquid way;
Or thro' those streights whose waters stun the car,
The loaded Lighter's bulky weight to steer.
Soon as the Ring their ancient Warrior view'd,
Joy fill'd their hearts, and thund'ring shouts ensu'd;
Loud as when o'er Thamesis' gentle flood,
Superior with the Triton Youths he row'd;
While far a-head his winged Wherry flew,
Touch'd the glad shore, and claim'd the Badge its due.
Of size gigantic, and tremendous mien,
Steps forth, and 'midst the fated Lists appears;
Rev'rend his form, but yet not worn with years.
To him none equal, in his youthful day,
With feather'd Oar to skim the liquid way;
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The loaded Lighter's bulky weight to steer.
Soon as the Ring their ancient Warrior view'd,
Joy fill'd their hearts, and thund'ring shouts ensu'd;
Loud as when o'er Thamesis' gentle flood,
Superior with the Triton Youths he row'd;
While far a-head his winged Wherry flew,
Touch'd the glad shore, and claim'd the Badge its due.
Then thus indignant he accosts the Foe,
(While high Disdain sat prideful on his brow:)
Long has the laurel-wreath victorious spread
Its sacred honours round this hoary head;
The prize of conquest in each doubtful fray,
And dear reward of many a dire-fought day.
Now Youth's cold wane the vig'rous pulse has chas'd,
Froze all my blood, and ev'ry nerve unbrac'd;
Now, from these temples shall the spoils be torn,
In scornful triumph by my Foe be worn?
What then avail my various deeds in arms,
If this proud crest thy feeble force disarms?
Lost be my glories to recording Fame,
When, foil'd by Thee, the Coward blasts my name!
I, who e'er Manhood my young joints had knit,
First taught the fierce Grettonius to submit;
While, drench'd in blood, he prostrate press'd the floor,
And inly groan'd the fatal words—no more.
Allenius too, who ev'ry heart dismay'd,
Whose blows, like hail, flew rattling round the head;
Him oft the Ring beheld with weeping eyes,
Stretch'd on the ground, reluctant yield the prize.
Then fell the Swain, with whom none e'er could vie,
Where Harrow's steeple darts into the sky.
Next the bold Youth a bleeding victim lay,
Whose waving curls the Barber's art display.
You too this arm's tremendous prowess know;
Rash Man, to make this arm again thy foe!
(While high Disdain sat prideful on his brow:)
Long has the laurel-wreath victorious spread
Its sacred honours round this hoary head;
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And dear reward of many a dire-fought day.
Now Youth's cold wane the vig'rous pulse has chas'd,
Froze all my blood, and ev'ry nerve unbrac'd;
Now, from these temples shall the spoils be torn,
In scornful triumph by my Foe be worn?
What then avail my various deeds in arms,
If this proud crest thy feeble force disarms?
Lost be my glories to recording Fame,
When, foil'd by Thee, the Coward blasts my name!
I, who e'er Manhood my young joints had knit,
First taught the fierce Grettonius to submit;
While, drench'd in blood, he prostrate press'd the floor,
And inly groan'd the fatal words—no more.
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Whose blows, like hail, flew rattling round the head;
Him oft the Ring beheld with weeping eyes,
Stretch'd on the ground, reluctant yield the prize.
Then fell the Swain, with whom none e'er could vie,
Where Harrow's steeple darts into the sky.
Next the bold Youth a bleeding victim lay,
Whose waving curls the Barber's art display.
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Rash Man, to make this arm again thy foe!
This said—the Heroes for the Fight prepare,
Brace their big limbs, and brawny bodies bare.
The sturdy sinews all aghast behold,
And ample shoulders of Atlean mould;
Like Titan's offspring, who 'gainst Heaven strove,
So each, tho' mortal, seem'd a match for Jove.
Now round the ring a silent horror reigns,
Speechless each tongue, and bloodless all their veins;
When, lo! the Champions give the dreadful sign,
And hand in hand in friendly token join;
Those iron hands, which soon upon the foe
With giant-force must deal the deathful blow.
Brace their big limbs, and brawny bodies bare.
The sturdy sinews all aghast behold,
And ample shoulders of Atlean mould;
Like Titan's offspring, who 'gainst Heaven strove,
So each, tho' mortal, seem'd a match for Jove.
Now round the ring a silent horror reigns,
Speechless each tongue, and bloodless all their veins;
When, lo! the Champions give the dreadful sign,
And hand in hand in friendly token join;
Those iron hands, which soon upon the foe
With giant-force must deal the deathful blow.
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BOOK III.
THE ARGUMENT OF THE THIRD BOOK.
A Description of the Battle; Stephenson is vanquished; the manner of his Body being carried off by his Friends; Broughton claims the Prize, and takes his final leave of the Stage.
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Full in the centre now they fix in form,
Eye meeting eye, and arm oppos'd to arm;
With wily feints each other now provoke,
And cautious meditate th' impending stroke.
Th' impatient Youth, inspir'd by hopes of fame,
First sped his arm, unfaithful to its aim;
The wary Warrior, watchful of his Foe,
Bends back, and 'scapes the death-designing blow;
With erring glance it sounded by his ear,
And whizzing, spent its idle force in air.
Then quick advancing on th' unguarded head,
A dreadful show'r of thunderbolts he shed:
As when a Whirlwind, from some cavern broke,
With furious blasts assaults the monarch Oak,
This way and that its lofty top it bends,
And the fierce storm the crackling branches rends;
So wav'd the head, and now to left and right
Rebounding flies, and crash'd beneath the weight.
Eye meeting eye, and arm oppos'd to arm;
With wily feints each other now provoke,
And cautious meditate th' impending stroke.
Th' impatient Youth, inspir'd by hopes of fame,
First sped his arm, unfaithful to its aim;
The wary Warrior, watchful of his Foe,
Bends back, and 'scapes the death-designing blow;
With erring glance it sounded by his ear,
And whizzing, spent its idle force in air.
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A dreadful show'r of thunderbolts he shed:
As when a Whirlwind, from some cavern broke,
With furious blasts assaults the monarch Oak,
This way and that its lofty top it bends,
And the fierce storm the crackling branches rends;
So wav'd the head, and now to left and right
Rebounding flies, and crash'd beneath the weight.
Like the young Lion wounded by a dart,
Whose fury kindles at the galling smart;
The Hero rouzes with redoubled rage,
Flies on his Foe, and foams upon the stage.
Now grappling, both in close contention join,
Legs lock in legs, and arms in arms entwine:
They sweat, they heave, each tugging nerve they strain;
Both, fix'd as oaks, their sturdy trunks sustain.
At length the Chief his wily art display'd,
Poiz'd on his hip the hapless Youth he laid;
Aloft in air his quiv'ring limbs he throw'd,
Then on the ground down dash'd the pond'rous load.
So some vast Ruin on a mountain's brow,
Which tott'ring hangs, and dreadful nods below,
When the fierce tempest the foundation rends,
Whirl'd thro' the air with horrid crush descends.
Whose fury kindles at the galling smart;
The Hero rouzes with redoubled rage,
Flies on his Foe, and foams upon the stage.
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Legs lock in legs, and arms in arms entwine:
They sweat, they heave, each tugging nerve they strain;
Both, fix'd as oaks, their sturdy trunks sustain.
At length the Chief his wily art display'd,
Poiz'd on his hip the hapless Youth he laid;
Aloft in air his quiv'ring limbs he throw'd,
Then on the ground down dash'd the pond'rous load.
So some vast Ruin on a mountain's brow,
Which tott'ring hangs, and dreadful nods below,
When the fierce tempest the foundation rends,
Whirl'd thro' the air with horrid crush descends.
Bold and undaunted up the Hero rose,
Fiercer his bosom for the Combat glows;
Shame stung his manly heart, and fiery rage
New steel'd each nerve, redoubled war to wage.
Swift to revenge the dire disgrace he flies,
Again suspended on the hip he lies;
Dash'd on the ground, again had fatal fell,
Haply the barrier caught his flying heel;
There fast it hung, th' imprison'd head gave way,
And the strong arm defrauded of its prey.
Vain strove the Chief to whirl the mountain o'er;
It slipt—he headlong rattles on the floor.
Around the ring loud peals of thunder rise,
And shouts exultant eccho to the skies.
Fiercer his bosom for the Combat glows;
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New steel'd each nerve, redoubled war to wage.
Swift to revenge the dire disgrace he flies,
Again suspended on the hip he lies;
Dash'd on the ground, again had fatal fell,
Haply the barrier caught his flying heel;
There fast it hung, th' imprison'd head gave way,
And the strong arm defrauded of its prey.
Vain strove the Chief to whirl the mountain o'er;
It slipt—he headlong rattles on the floor.
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And shouts exultant eccho to the skies.
Uplifted now inanimate he seems,
Forth from his nostrils gush the purple streams;
Gasping for breath, and impotent of hand,
The Youth beheld his Rival stagg'ring stand:
But he, alas! had felt th' unnerving blow,
And gaz'd, unable to assault the Foe.
As when two Monarchs of the brindled breed
Dispute the proud dominion of the mead,
They fight, they foam, then weary'd in the fray,
Aloof retreat, and low'ring stand at bay;
So stood the Heroes, and indignant glar'd,
While grim with blood their rueful fronts were smear'd;
Till with returning strength new rage returns,
Again their arms are steel'd, again each bosom burns.
Forth from his nostrils gush the purple streams;
Gasping for breath, and impotent of hand,
The Youth beheld his Rival stagg'ring stand:
But he, alas! had felt th' unnerving blow,
And gaz'd, unable to assault the Foe.
As when two Monarchs of the brindled breed
Dispute the proud dominion of the mead,
They fight, they foam, then weary'd in the fray,
Aloof retreat, and low'ring stand at bay;
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While grim with blood their rueful fronts were smear'd;
Till with returning strength new rage returns,
Again their arms are steel'd, again each bosom burns.
Incessant now their hollow sides they pound,
Loud on each breast the bounding bangs resound;
Their flying fists around the temples glow,
And the jaws crackle with the massy blow.
The raging Combat ev'ry eye appalls,
Strokes following strokes, and falls succeeding falls.
Now droop'd the Youth, yet, urging all his might,
With feeble arm still vindicates the Fight,
Till on the part where heav'd the panting breath,
A fatal blow impress'd the seal of death.
Down dropt the Hero, welt'ring in his gore,
And his stretch'd limbs lay quiv'ring on the floor.
So, when a Falcon skims the airy way,
Stoops from the clouds, and pounces on his prey;
Dash'd on the earth the feather'd Victim lies,
Expands its feeble wings, and, flutt'ring, dies.
His faithful Friends their dying Hero rear'd,
O'er his broad shoulders dangling hung his head;
Dragging its limbs, they bear the body forth,
Mash'd teeth and clotted blood came issuing from his mouth.
Loud on each breast the bounding bangs resound;
Their flying fists around the temples glow,
And the jaws crackle with the massy blow.
The raging Combat ev'ry eye appalls,
Strokes following strokes, and falls succeeding falls.
Now droop'd the Youth, yet, urging all his might,
With feeble arm still vindicates the Fight,
Till on the part where heav'd the panting breath,
A fatal blow impress'd the seal of death.
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And his stretch'd limbs lay quiv'ring on the floor.
So, when a Falcon skims the airy way,
Stoops from the clouds, and pounces on his prey;
Dash'd on the earth the feather'd Victim lies,
Expands its feeble wings, and, flutt'ring, dies.
His faithful Friends their dying Hero rear'd,
O'er his broad shoulders dangling hung his head;
Dragging its limbs, they bear the body forth,
Mash'd teeth and clotted blood came issuing from his mouth.
Thus then the Victor—O celestial Pow'r!
Who gave this arm to boast one triumph more;
Now grey in glory, let my labours cease,
My blood-stain'd Laurel wed the branch of Peace;
Lur'd by the lustre of the golden Prize,
No more in Combat this proud crest shall rise;
To future Heroes future deeds belong,
Be mine the theme of some immortal song.
Who gave this arm to boast one triumph more;
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My blood-stain'd Laurel wed the branch of Peace;
Lur'd by the lustre of the golden Prize,
No more in Combat this proud crest shall rise;
To future Heroes future deeds belong,
Be mine the theme of some immortal song.
This said—he seiz'd the prize, while round the ring,
High soar'd Applause on Acclamation's wing.
High soar'd Applause on Acclamation's wing.
THE END.
| The Poems and Miscellaneous Compositions of Paul Whitehead | |