Lapsus Calami By J. K. Stephen. New ed |
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 | THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE EXPRESSED DIFFERENTLY, ERRORS OF JUDGMENT, IMPROMPTUS, &c. |
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 | Lapsus Calami |  |
33
THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE EXPRESSED DIFFERENTLY, ERRORS OF JUDGMENT, IMPROMPTUS, &c.
35
To W. H.
What are the habits of the ruby floodWe reek with? man had questioned many a year:
And William Harvey spoke in accents clear
These words: “the circulation of the blood.”
Man owned that this was so, and asked for food;
And fate bestowed upon him beef and beer:
But beef was coarse, indelicate and sere:
So Harvey proffered Sauce and made it good.
My friend! be worthy of thy forbears' glory,
And if old truths thou canst not rediscover,
Yet canst thou live those truths out here on earth:
Make stagnant conversations, void of mirth,
To circulate with quip and crank and story,
Make life's dull dish with piquant sauce run over.
July, 1882.
36
4th July, 1882, Malines. Midnight.
Belgian, with cumbrous tread and iron boots,Who in the murky middle of the night,
Designing to renew the foul pursuits
In which thy life is passed, ill-favoured wight,
And wishing on the platform to alight
Where thou couldst mingle with thy fellow brutes,
Didst walk the carriage floor (a leprous sight),
As o'er the sky some baleful meteor shoots:
Upon my slippered foot thou didst descend,
Didst rouse me from my slumbers mad with pain,
And laughedst loud for several minutes' space.
Oh may'st thou suffer tortures without end:
May fiends with glowing pincers rend thy brain,
And beetles batten on thy blackened face!
37
Ballade of the Drowning Fusee.
The pipe I intend to consume
Is full, and fairly alight:
It scatters a fragrant perfume,
Blue smoke-wreaths are heaving in sight:
I sink on the heathery height,
And lo! there is borne unto me
From a sweet little stream on my right
The song of the drowning fusee.
Is full, and fairly alight:
It scatters a fragrant perfume,
Blue smoke-wreaths are heaving in sight:
I sink on the heathery height,
And lo! there is borne unto me
From a sweet little stream on my right
The song of the drowning fusee.
The monarch of waterfowl, whom
On the brink of an infinite night
A strange irresistible doom
Converts to a musical wight,
Is akin, in his glory's despite,
To a moribund match, as we see,
While we listen, in speechless delight,
To the song of the drowning fusee.
On the brink of an infinite night
A strange irresistible doom
Converts to a musical wight,
Is akin, in his glory's despite,
To a moribund match, as we see,
While we listen, in speechless delight,
To the song of the drowning fusee.
38
As he sinks in his watery tomb,
His epitaph let me indite.
He hardly took up any room;
His life was retired; his end bright.
With destiny no one can fight
All poets and prosers agree,
And a tribute to destiny's might
Is the song of the drowning fusee.
His epitaph let me indite.
He hardly took up any room;
His life was retired; his end bright.
With destiny no one can fight
All poets and prosers agree,
And a tribute to destiny's might
Is the song of the drowning fusee.
Friend! would you be gratified quite
The first of our poets to be?
If so, I advise you to write
The song of the drowning fusee.
The first of our poets to be?
If so, I advise you to write
The song of the drowning fusee.
39
The Ballade of the Incompetent Ballade-Monger.
I am not ambitious at all:
I am not a poet, I know
(Though I do love to see a mere scrawl
To order and symmetry grow).
My muse is uncertain and slow,
I am not expert with my tools,
I lack the poetic argot:
But I hope I have kept to the rules.
I am not a poet, I know
(Though I do love to see a mere scrawl
To order and symmetry grow).
My muse is uncertain and slow,
I am not expert with my tools,
I lack the poetic argot:
But I hope I have kept to the rules.
When your brain is undoubtedly small,
'Tis hard, sir, to write in a row,
Some five or six rhymes to Nepaul,
And more than a dozen to Joe:
The metre is easier though,
Three rhymes are sufficient for ‘ghouls,’
My lines are deficient in go,
But I hope I have kept to the rules.
'Tis hard, sir, to write in a row,
Some five or six rhymes to Nepaul,
And more than a dozen to Joe:
The metre is easier though,
Three rhymes are sufficient for ‘ghouls,’
My lines are deficient in go,
But I hope I have kept to the rules.
40
Unable to fly let me crawl,
Your patronage kindly bestow:
I am not the author of Saul,
I am not Voltaire or Rousseau:
I am not desirous, oh no!
To rise from the ranks of the fools,
To shine with Gosse, Dobson and Co.:
But I hope I have kept to the rules.
Your patronage kindly bestow:
I am not the author of Saul,
I am not Voltaire or Rousseau:
I am not desirous, oh no!
To rise from the ranks of the fools,
To shine with Gosse, Dobson and Co.:
But I hope I have kept to the rules.
Dear Sir, though my language is low,
Let me dip in Pierian pools:
My verses are only so so,
But I hope I have kept to the rules.
Let me dip in Pierian pools:
My verses are only so so,
But I hope I have kept to the rules.
41
Triolets Ollendorfiens.
Je suis le frère
Du bon cocher:
Où est sa mère?
Je suis le frère.
Tu es le père
Du jardinier:
Je suis le frère
Du bon cocher.
Du bon cocher:
Où est sa mère?
Je suis le frère.
Tu es le père
Du jardinier:
Je suis le frère
Du bon cocher.
Où est mon canif?
J'ai perdu ma chatte.
Je veux du rosbif.
Où est mon canif?
J'ai tué le Juif.
Faut-il qu'on se batte?
Où est mon canif?
J'ai perdu ma chatte.
J'ai perdu ma chatte.
Je veux du rosbif.
Où est mon canif?
J'ai tué le Juif.
Faut-il qu'on se batte?
Où est mon canif?
J'ai perdu ma chatte.
La belle cousine
Du fils de ma bru
Vit dans ma cuisine,
La belle cousine!
Ta laide voisine
N'a jamais connu
La belle cousine
Du fils de ma bru.
Du fils de ma bru
Vit dans ma cuisine,
La belle cousine!
Ta laide voisine
N'a jamais connu
La belle cousine
Du fils de ma bru.
42
To D. J. S.
Written on the Fly-Leaf of Maclise's Portrait Gallery, Edited by Bates.
Here, painted by a Master's hand,
Is many a lovely dame,
Amidst the writers of the land
Who gained the greatest fame.
Is many a lovely dame,
Amidst the writers of the land
Who gained the greatest fame.
But sure there is not one whose pen
Was half so apt as thine
To catch the ears of listening men,
Or wake the Sacred Nine.
Was half so apt as thine
To catch the ears of listening men,
Or wake the Sacred Nine.
None saw reflected in her glass
A more distinguished face:
But thou art born too late, alas!
To take thy proper place.
A more distinguished face:
But thou art born too late, alas!
To take thy proper place.
The pencil of Maclise, my dear,
Thy face will ne'er portray,
Nor will the facts of thy career
Be told by Bates, B.A.
Thy face will ne'er portray,
Nor will the facts of thy career
Be told by Bates, B.A.
Yet do not hence a pretext seize
To blame the cruel Fates:
If they denied thee to Maclise,
They rescued thee from Bates.
To blame the cruel Fates:
If they denied thee to Maclise,
They rescued thee from Bates.
43
The Philosopher and the Philanthropist.
Searching an infinite Where,
Probing a bottomless When,
Dreamfully wandering,
Ceaselessly pondering,
What is the Wherefore of men:
Bartering life for a There,
Selling his soul for a Then,
Baffling obscurity,
Conning futurity,
Usefulest, wisest of men!
Probing a bottomless When,
Dreamfully wandering,
Ceaselessly pondering,
What is the Wherefore of men:
Bartering life for a There,
Selling his soul for a Then,
Baffling obscurity,
Conning futurity,
Usefulest, wisest of men!
Grasping the Present of Life,
Seizing a definite Now,
Labouring thornfully,
Banishing scornfully
Doubts of his Whither and How:
Spending his substance in Strife,
Working a practical How,
Letting obscurity
Rest on futurity,
Usefuler, wiser, I trow.
Seizing a definite Now,
Labouring thornfully,
Banishing scornfully
Doubts of his Whither and How:
Spending his substance in Strife,
Working a practical How,
Letting obscurity
Rest on futurity,
Usefuler, wiser, I trow.
44
To a Friend.
Whene'er I wander through the well-known fields,
Or guide my boat down the familiar stream,
And taste the joys which recollection yields,
When youth's delights are but a fading dream,
Where Windsor's keep his hoary head doth lift,
I'll think upon your gift.
Or guide my boat down the familiar stream,
And taste the joys which recollection yields,
When youth's delights are but a fading dream,
Where Windsor's keep his hoary head doth lift,
I'll think upon your gift.
And when you have occasion to refer
To Mr Browning's justly famous verses,
A thing which may from time to time occur,
To save one's giving vent to tears and curses,
(Although you may not catch the poet's drift)
You'll think upon my gift.
To Mr Browning's justly famous verses,
A thing which may from time to time occur,
To save one's giving vent to tears and curses,
(Although you may not catch the poet's drift)
You'll think upon my gift.
45
A Thought.
If all the harm that women have done
Were put in a bundle and rolled into one,
Earth would not hold it,
The sky could not enfold it,
It could not be lighted nor warmed by the sun;
Such masses of evil
Would puzzle the devil
And keep him in fuel while Time's wheels run.
Were put in a bundle and rolled into one,
Earth would not hold it,
The sky could not enfold it,
It could not be lighted nor warmed by the sun;
Such masses of evil
Would puzzle the devil
And keep him in fuel while Time's wheels run.
But if all the harm that's been done by men
Were doubled and doubled and doubled again,
And melted and fused into vapour and then
Were squared and raised to the power of ten,
There wouldn't be nearly enough, not near,
To keep a small girl for the tenth of a year.
Were doubled and doubled and doubled again,
And melted and fused into vapour and then
Were squared and raised to the power of ten,
There wouldn't be nearly enough, not near,
To keep a small girl for the tenth of a year.
46
Early School.
If there is a vile, pernicious,
Wicked and degraded rule,
Tending to debase the vicious,
And corrupt the harmless fool;
If there is a hateful habit
Making man a senseless tool,
With the feelings of a rabbit,
And the wisdom of a mule:
It's the rule which inculcates,
It's the habit which dictates,
The wrong and sinful practice of going into school.
Wicked and degraded rule,
Tending to debase the vicious,
And corrupt the harmless fool;
If there is a hateful habit
Making man a senseless tool,
With the feelings of a rabbit,
And the wisdom of a mule:
It's the rule which inculcates,
It's the habit which dictates,
The wrong and sinful practice of going into school.
If there's anything improving
To an erring sinner's state,
Which is useful in removing
All the ills of human fate:
If there's any glorious custom
Which our faults can dissipate,
And can casually thrust 'em
Out of sight, and make us great:
It's the plan by which we shirk
Half our matutinal work,
The glorious institution of always being late.
To an erring sinner's state,
Which is useful in removing
All the ills of human fate:
If there's any glorious custom
Which our faults can dissipate,
And can casually thrust 'em
Out of sight, and make us great:
It's the plan by which we shirk
Half our matutinal work,
The glorious institution of always being late.
47
An Election Address.
(To Cambridge University, 1882.)
I venture to suggest that I
Am rather noticeably fit
To hold the seat illumined by
The names of Palmerston and Pitt.
Am rather noticeably fit
To hold the seat illumined by
The names of Palmerston and Pitt.
My principles are such as you
Have often heard expressed before:
They are, without exception, true;
And who can say, with candour, more?
Have often heard expressed before:
They are, without exception, true;
And who can say, with candour, more?
My views concerning Church and State
Are such as Bishops have professed:
I need not recapitulate
The arguments on which they rest.
Are such as Bishops have professed:
I need not recapitulate
The arguments on which they rest.
Respecting Ireland, I opine
That Ministers are in a mess,
That Landlords rule by Right Divine,
That Firmness will remove Distress.
That Ministers are in a mess,
That Landlords rule by Right Divine,
That Firmness will remove Distress.
I see with horror undisguised
That freedom of debate is dead:
The Liberals are organised:
The Caucus rears its hideous head.
That freedom of debate is dead:
The Liberals are organised:
The Caucus rears its hideous head.
Yet need'st thou, England, not despair
At Chamberlain's or Gladstone's pride,
While Henry Cecil Raikes is there
To organise the other side.
At Chamberlain's or Gladstone's pride,
While Henry Cecil Raikes is there
To organise the other side.
48
I never quit, as others do,
Political intrigue, to seek
The dingy literary crew,
Or hear the voice of science speak.
Political intrigue, to seek
The dingy literary crew,
Or hear the voice of science speak.
But I have fostered, guided, planned
Commercial enterprise: in me
Some ten or twelve directors and
Six worthy chairmen you may see.
Commercial enterprise: in me
Some ten or twelve directors and
Six worthy chairmen you may see.
My academical career
Was free from any sort of blot:
I challenge anybody here
To demonstrate that it was not.
Was free from any sort of blot:
I challenge anybody here
To demonstrate that it was not.
At classics too I worked amain,
Whereby I did not only pass,
But even managed to obtain
A very decent second class.
Whereby I did not only pass,
But even managed to obtain
A very decent second class.
And since those early days, the same
Success has crowned the self-same plan;
Profundity I cannot claim:
Respectability I can.
Success has crowned the self-same plan;
Profundity I cannot claim:
Respectability I can.
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