Recaptured Rhymes Being a Batch of Political and Other Fugitives Arrested and Brought to Book. By H. D. Traill |
 |
 |
“OUR GLYCERINE BAROMETER.” |
|
|
|
 | Recaptured Rhymes |  |
56
“OUR GLYCERINE BAROMETER.”
(1880.)
[_]
The violent storm which is still raging around us has come opportunely to illustrate the significance of the records which we commenced publishing on Monday of the readings of the Jordan Glycerine Barometer recently established at this office.—The Times, Oct. 29.
Recitative.
Sub-Editor.
How fiercely chides the storm without,
How howl the winds in devil's din!
57
What telegrams come pouring in!
From Falmouth to the Firth of Tay
Our sea-lashed coasts with wrecks are strewn,
Wind-hunted ships crowd every bay.
Ed.
God bless my soul! how opportune!
Sub-E.
From east to west, from north to south,
The floods are out for miles and miles;
From watershed to river-mouth
The banks lie hidden (strange! he smiles)
At Bath a house . . . but how is this?
You hear with fortitude sublime
These shocking—
Ed.
Well, the secret is
They happen in the nick of time.
58
Air.
The Editor.
Let tempests work their wildest will,
Let torrent-rain our meadows flood,
Ill were the wind, and worse than ill,
That blew to no man aught of good.
This hurricane that sweeps the skies,
One really almost might aver
'Twas sent express to advertise
Our Glycerine Barometer.
Let torrent-rain our meadows flood,
Ill were the wind, and worse than ill,
That blew to no man aught of good.
This hurricane that sweeps the skies,
One really almost might aver
'Twas sent express to advertise
Our Glycerine Barometer.
For marked ye not, on Tuesday last,
When Gordon Bennett flashed “Beware!
A dangerous gale is speeding fast
Towards your fated shores. Prepare!”
How in its tube the fluid fell,
And how the storm which would occur
It did to all the world foretell—
Our Glycerine Barometer.
When Gordon Bennett flashed “Beware!
A dangerous gale is speeding fast
Towards your fated shores. Prepare!”
How in its tube the fluid fell,
And how the storm which would occur
It did to all the world foretell—
Our Glycerine Barometer.
59
So was it published to mankind
What precious food the ‘Times’ supplies
To those who seek its page to find
The wisdom of the weather-wise.
To all the journals of the day
Such persons should our print prefer,
Since in its office hangs alway
A Glycerine Barometer.
What precious food the ‘Times’ supplies
To those who seek its page to find
The wisdom of the weather-wise.
To all the journals of the day
Such persons should our print prefer,
Since in its office hangs alway
A Glycerine Barometer.
One column of instructive stuff
They're sure to find—that one I mean
Which we must now with vigour puff,
And which consists of Glycerine.
For though our news be somewhat stale,
And though our views may sometimes err,
Nor novelty nor truth can fail
Our Glycerine Barometer.
They're sure to find—that one I mean
Which we must now with vigour puff,
And which consists of Glycerine.
For though our news be somewhat stale,
And though our views may sometimes err,
Nor novelty nor truth can fail
Our Glycerine Barometer.
What if a daily hash we make
Of names, dates, titles, and degrees,
If rank as Colonels Captains take
And “Barts.” descend to K.C.B.'s?
What if our “reader” takes no heed
And printers' errors oft recur?
At least we acurately read
Our Glycerine Barometer.
Of names, dates, titles, and degrees,
60
And “Barts.” descend to K.C.B.'s?
What if our “reader” takes no heed
And printers' errors oft recur?
At least we acurately read
Our Glycerine Barometer.
What if of news on every lip
No notice in the ‘Times’ appears,
And frightful gas explosions slip
Unheeded past our dreaming ears?
At least our vigilance is good
For signs of atmospheric stir:
No surreptitious storms elude
Our Glycerine Barometer.
(A pause. Then somewhat sadly:)
No notice in the ‘Times’ appears,
And frightful gas explosions slip
Unheeded past our dreaming ears?
At least our vigilance is good
For signs of atmospheric stir:
No surreptitious storms elude
Our Glycerine Barometer.
Yet in my joy—'tis always so—
A seed of bitterness is hid:
“Leporum fonte medio
Amari surgit aliquid.”
I see, and not without a shock,
New triumphs older glories blur,
And mourn our famous Weathercock
Outshone by our Barometer.
A seed of bitterness is hid:
“Leporum fonte medio
Amari surgit aliquid.”
61
New triumphs older glories blur,
And mourn our famous Weathercock
Outshone by our Barometer.
| Recaptured Rhymes | |