The Complete Works of C. S. Calverley ... With a Biographical Notice by Sir Walter J. Sendall |
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 | MISCELLANEOUS POEMS |
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 | The Complete Works of C. S. Calverley |  |
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MISCELLANEOUS POEMS
SONNET
When o'er the world night spreads her mantle dun,
In dreams, my love, I see those stars thine eyes
Lighting the dark; but when the royal sun
Looks o'er the pines and fires the orient skies,
I bask no longer in thy beauty's ray,
And lo! my world is bankrupt of delight:
Murk night seemed lately fair-complexioned day:
Hope-bringing day seems now most doleful night.
End, weary day, that art no day to me!
Return, fair night, to me the best of days!
But oh, my rose, whom in my dreams I see,
Enkindle with like bliss my waking gaze!
Replete with thee, e'en hideous night grows fair,
Then what would sweet morn be, if thou wert there!
In dreams, my love, I see those stars thine eyes
Lighting the dark; but when the royal sun
Looks o'er the pines and fires the orient skies,
I bask no longer in thy beauty's ray,
And lo! my world is bankrupt of delight:
Murk night seemed lately fair-complexioned day:
Hope-bringing day seems now most doleful night.
End, weary day, that art no day to me!
Return, fair night, to me the best of days!
But oh, my rose, whom in my dreams I see,
Enkindle with like bliss my waking gaze!
Replete with thee, e'en hideous night grows fair,
Then what would sweet morn be, if thou wert there!
THE BOTTLING OF THE WASP
The wasps were one morning obtrusively gay:
Said my true love, “I know what'll speed them away:
From a nail, or a chairback, a bottle hang down,
And they're ‘tree'd’—the brave varmints that buzz round your crown!”
Said my true love, “I know what'll speed them away:
From a nail, or a chairback, a bottle hang down,
And they're ‘tree'd’—the brave varmints that buzz round your crown!”
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He hath found an old bottle, I cannot say where;
He hath bound it with skill to the back of a chair;
Full of mild ale so yellow and sugar so brown;
And he “tree'd” them by dozens, I bet you a crown.
He hath bound it with skill to the back of a chair;
Full of mild ale so yellow and sugar so brown;
And he “tree'd” them by dozens, I bet you a crown.
They may talk of their hares, of their rabbits, and all,
Such round-headed rascals, in Westminster Hall.
But tell legislators, the things to put down
Are those queer little imps that encircle one's crown.
Such round-headed rascals, in Westminster Hall.
But tell legislators, the things to put down
Are those queer little imps that encircle one's crown.
So here's to their health, when they next travel here:
The sugar's unrivalled, resistless the beer:
And in peace may they leave us, themselves while they drown
In the healthy malt liquor that's sold at the “Crown.”
The sugar's unrivalled, resistless the beer:
And in peace may they leave us, themselves while they drown
In the healthy malt liquor that's sold at the “Crown.”
A LIFE IN THE COUNTRY
“Oh! a life in the country how joyous,
How ineffably charming it is;
With no ill-mannered crowds to annoy us,
Nor odious neighbours to quiz!”
So murmured the beautiful Harriet
To the fondly affectionate Brown,
As they rolled in the flame-coloured chariot
From the nasty detestable town;
Singing, “Oh, a life in the country how joyous,
How ineffably charming it is!”
How ineffably charming it is;
With no ill-mannered crowds to annoy us,
Nor odious neighbours to quiz!”
So murmured the beautiful Harriet
To the fondly affectionate Brown,
As they rolled in the flame-coloured chariot
From the nasty detestable town;
Singing, “Oh, a life in the country how joyous,
How ineffably charming it is!”
“I shall take a portfolio quite full
Of the sweetest conceivable glees;
And at times manufacture delightful
Little odes to the doves in the trees.
There'll be dear little stockingless wretches
In those hats that are so picturesque,
Who will make the deliciousest sketches,
Which I'll place in my Theodore's desk;
And Oh, &c.
Of the sweetest conceivable glees;
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Little odes to the doves in the trees.
There'll be dear little stockingless wretches
In those hats that are so picturesque,
Who will make the deliciousest sketches,
Which I'll place in my Theodore's desk;
And Oh, &c.
“Then how pleasant to study the habits
Of the creatures we meet as we roam:
And perhaps keep a couple of rabbits,
Or some fish and a bullfinch at home!
The larks, when the summer has brought 'em,
Will sing overtures quite like Mozart's,
And the blackberries, dear, in the autumn
Will make the most exquisite tarts!
And Oh, &c.
Of the creatures we meet as we roam:
And perhaps keep a couple of rabbits,
Or some fish and a bullfinch at home!
The larks, when the summer has brought 'em,
Will sing overtures quite like Mozart's,
And the blackberries, dear, in the autumn
Will make the most exquisite tarts!
And Oh, &c.
“The bells of the sheep will be ringing
All day amid sweet-scented flowers,
As we sit by some rivulet singing
About May and her beautiful bowers.
We'll take intellectual rambles
In those balm-laden evenings of June,
And say it reminds one of Campbell's
(Or somebody's) lines to the moon;
And Oh, &c.—it is.”
All day amid sweet-scented flowers,
As we sit by some rivulet singing
About May and her beautiful bowers.
We'll take intellectual rambles
In those balm-laden evenings of June,
And say it reminds one of Campbell's
(Or somebody's) lines to the moon;
And Oh, &c.—it is.”
But these charms began shortly to pall on
The taste of the gay Mrs. Brown:
She hadn't a body to call on,
Nor a soul that could make up a gown.
She was yearning to see her relations;
And besides had a troublesome cough;
And in fact she was losing all patience,
And exclaimed, “We must really be off,
Though a life in the country so joyous,
So ineffably charming it is.”
The taste of the gay Mrs. Brown:
She hadn't a body to call on,
Nor a soul that could make up a gown.
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And besides had a troublesome cough;
And in fact she was losing all patience,
And exclaimed, “We must really be off,
Though a life in the country so joyous,
So ineffably charming it is.”
“But this morning I noticed a beetle
Crawl along on the dining-room floor
If we stay till the summer, the heat 'll
Infallibly bring out some more.
Now, few have a greater objection
To beetles than Harriet Brown:
And, my dear, I think, on reflection—
I should like to go back to the town.
Though, &c.”
Crawl along on the dining-room floor
If we stay till the summer, the heat 'll
Infallibly bring out some more.
Now, few have a greater objection
To beetles than Harriet Brown:
And, my dear, I think, on reflection—
I should like to go back to the town.
Though, &c.”
APRIL
OR, THE NEW HAT
Prologue
My Boots had been wash'd—well wash'd—in a show'r;
But little I griev'd about that:
What I felt was the havock a single half-hour
Had made with my costly new Hat.
But little I griev'd about that:
What I felt was the havock a single half-hour
Had made with my costly new Hat.
For the Boot, tho' its lustre be dimm'd, shall assume
Fresh sprightliness after a while:
But what art may restore its original bloom,
When once it hath flown, to the Tile?
Fresh sprightliness after a while:
But what art may restore its original bloom,
When once it hath flown, to the Tile?
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I clomb to my perch, and the Horses (a bay
And a brown) trotted off with a clatter:
The Driver look'd round in his affable way
And said huskily “Who is your hatter?”
And a brown) trotted off with a clatter:
The Driver look'd round in his affable way
And said huskily “Who is your hatter?”
I was pleas'd that he'd notic'd its shape and its shine,
And as soon as we reached the Old Druid
I begg'd that he'd drink to my new Four-and-nine
In a glass of his favourite Fluid.
And as soon as we reached the Old Druid
I begg'd that he'd drink to my new Four-and-nine
In a glass of his favourite Fluid.
A gratified smile sat, I own, on my lips
When the Landlady called to the Master
(He was standing hard by with his hands on his hips)
To “look at the gentleman's Castor!”
When the Landlady called to the Master
(He was standing hard by with his hands on his hips)
To “look at the gentleman's Castor!”
I laugh'd, as an Organ-man paus'd in mid-air
('Twas an air that I happen'd to know
By a great foreign Maestro) expressly to stare
At ze gent wiz ze joli chapeau.
('Twas an air that I happen'd to know
By a great foreign Maestro) expressly to stare
At ze gent wiz ze joli chapeau.
Yet how swift is the transit from laughter to tears!
Our glories, how fleeting are they!
That Hat might (with care) have adorned me for years;
But 'twas ruin'd, alack, in a Day!
Our glories, how fleeting are they!
That Hat might (with care) have adorned me for years;
But 'twas ruin'd, alack, in a Day!
How I lov'd thee, my Bright One! I wrench in Remorse
My hands from my Coat-tail and wring 'em:
“Why did not I, why, as a matter of course,
When I purchas'd thee, purchase a Gingham!”
My hands from my Coat-tail and wring 'em:
“Why did not I, why, as a matter of course,
When I purchas'd thee, purchase a Gingham!”
127
THE CUCKOO
Forth I wandered, years ago,
When the summer sun was low,
And the forest all aglow
With his light:
'Twas a day of cloudless skies;
When the trout neglects to rise,
And in vain the angler sighs
For a bite.
When the summer sun was low,
And the forest all aglow
With his light:
'Twas a day of cloudless skies;
When the trout neglects to rise,
And in vain the angler sighs
For a bite.
And the cuckoo piped away—
How I love his simple lay,
O'er the cowslip fields of May
As it floats!
May was over, and of course
He was just a little hoarse,
And appeared to me to force
Certain notes.
How I love his simple lay,
O'er the cowslip fields of May
As it floats!
May was over, and of course
He was just a little hoarse,
And appeared to me to force
Certain notes.
Since Mid-April, men averred,
People's pulses, inly stirred
By the music of the bird,
Had upleapt:
It was now the end of June;
I reflected that he'd soon
Sing entirely out of tune,
And I wept.
People's pulses, inly stirred
By the music of the bird,
Had upleapt:
It was now the end of June;
I reflected that he'd soon
Sing entirely out of tune,
And I wept.
Looking up, I marked a maid
Float balloon-like o'er the glade,
Casting evermore a staid
Glance around:
And I thrilled with sweet surprise
When she dropt, all virgin-wise,
First a courtesy, then her eyes,
To the ground.
Float balloon-like o'er the glade,
Casting evermore a staid
Glance around:
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When she dropt, all virgin-wise,
First a courtesy, then her eyes,
To the ground.
Other eyes have p'raps to you
Seemed ethereally blue,
But you see you never knew
Kate Adair.
What a mien she had! Her hat
With what dignity it sat
On the mystery, or mat,
Of her hair!
Seemed ethereally blue,
But you see you never knew
Kate Adair.
What a mien she had! Her hat
With what dignity it sat
On the mystery, or mat,
Of her hair!
We were neighbours. I had doff d
Cap and hat to her so oft
That they both of them were soft
In the brim:
I had gone out of my way
To bid e'en her sire good-day,
Though I wasn't, I may say,
Fond of him:—
Cap and hat to her so oft
That they both of them were soft
In the brim:
I had gone out of my way
To bid e'en her sire good-day,
Though I wasn't, I may say,
Fond of him:—
We had met, in streets and shops;
But by rill or mazy copse,
Where your speech abruptly stops
And you get
Dithyrambic ere you know it—
Where, though nothing of a poet,
You intuitively go it—
Never yet.
But by rill or mazy copse,
Where your speech abruptly stops
And you get
Dithyrambic ere you know it—
Where, though nothing of a poet,
You intuitively go it—
Never yet.
So my love had ne'er been told!
Till the day when out I strolled
And the jolly cuckoo trolled
Forth his song,
Naught had passed between us two
Save a bashful ‘How d'ye do’
And a blushing ‘How do you
Get along?’
Till the day when out I strolled
And the jolly cuckoo trolled
Forth his song,
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Save a bashful ‘How d'ye do’
And a blushing ‘How do you
Get along?’
But that eve (how swift it passed!)
Words of fire flew from me fast
For the first time and the last
In my life:
Low and lower drooped her chin,
As I murmured how I'd skin
Or behead myself to win
Such a wife.
Words of fire flew from me fast
For the first time and the last
In my life:
Low and lower drooped her chin,
As I murmured how I'd skin
Or behead myself to win
Such a wife.
There we stood. The squirrel leaped
Overhead: the throstle peeped
Through the leaves, all sunlight-steeped,
Of the lime:
There we stood alone:—a third
Would have made the thing absurd:—
And she scarcely spoke a word
All the time.
Overhead: the throstle peeped
Through the leaves, all sunlight-steeped,
Of the lime:
There we stood alone:—a third
Would have made the thing absurd:—
And she scarcely spoke a word
All the time.
Katie junior (such a dear!)
Has attained her thirteenth year,
And declares she feels a queer
Sort of shock—
Not unpleasant though at all—
When she hears a cuckoo call:
So I've purchased her a small
Cuckoo-clock.
Has attained her thirteenth year,
And declares she feels a queer
Sort of shock—
Not unpleasant though at all—
When she hears a cuckoo call:
So I've purchased her a small
Cuckoo-clock.
130
THE POET AND THE FLY
I. Part I
Round the Poet, ere he slumbered,
Sang the Fly thro' hours unnumbered;
Sauntered, if he seemed to doze,
O'er the arch that was his nose,
Darting thence to re-appear
In his subtly-chambered ear:
When at last he slept right soundly,
It transfixed him so profoundly,
Caused him agony so horrid,
That he woke and smote his forehead
(It's the course that poets take
When they're trifled with) and spake:—
Sang the Fly thro' hours unnumbered;
Sauntered, if he seemed to doze,
O'er the arch that was his nose,
Darting thence to re-appear
In his subtly-chambered ear:
When at last he slept right soundly,
It transfixed him so profoundly,
Caused him agony so horrid,
That he woke and smote his forehead
(It's the course that poets take
When they're trifled with) and spake:—
“Fly! Thy brisk unmeaning buzz
Would have roused the man of Uz;
And, besides thy buzzing, I
Fancy thou'rt a stinging fly.
Fly—who'rt peering, I am certain,
At me now from yonder curtain:
Busy, curious, thirsty fly
(As thou'rt clept, I well know why)—
Cease, if only for a single
Hour, to make my being tingle!
Flee to some loved haunt of thine;
To the valleys where the kine,
Udder-deep in grasses cool,
Or the rushy-margined pool,
Strive to lash thy murmurous kin
(Vainly) from their dappled skin!
Round the steed's broad nostrils flit,
Till he foams and champs the bit,
And, reluctant to be bled,
Tosses high his lordly head.
I have seen a thing no larger
Than thyself assail a charger;
He—who unconcerned would stand
All the braying of the band,
Who disdained trombone and drum—
Quailed before that little hum.
I have seen one flaunt his feelers
'Fore the steadiest of wheelers,
And at once the beast would bound,
Kangaroo-like, off the ground.
Lithe o'er moor and marish hie,
Like thy king, the Dragon-fly;
With the burnished bee skim over
Sunlit uplands white with clover;
Or, low-brooding on the lea,
Warn the swain of storms to be!
—Need I tell thee how to act?
Do just anything in fact.
Haunt my cream ('twill make thee plump),
Filch my sugar, every lump;
Round my matin-coat keep dodging,
In my necktie find a lodging
(Only, now that I reflect, I
Rather seldom wear a necktie);
Perforate my Sunday hat;
(It's a new one—what of that?)
Honeycomb my cheese, my favourite,
Thy researches will but flavour it;
Spoil my dinner-beer, and sneak up
Basely to my evening tea-cup;
Palter with my final toddy;
But respect my face and body!
Hadst thou been a painted hornet,
Or a wasp, I might have borne it;
But a common fly or gnat!
Come, my friend, get out of that.”
Would have roused the man of Uz;
And, besides thy buzzing, I
Fancy thou'rt a stinging fly.
Fly—who'rt peering, I am certain,
At me now from yonder curtain:
Busy, curious, thirsty fly
(As thou'rt clept, I well know why)—
Cease, if only for a single
Hour, to make my being tingle!
Flee to some loved haunt of thine;
To the valleys where the kine,
Udder-deep in grasses cool,
Or the rushy-margined pool,
Strive to lash thy murmurous kin
131
Round the steed's broad nostrils flit,
Till he foams and champs the bit,
And, reluctant to be bled,
Tosses high his lordly head.
I have seen a thing no larger
Than thyself assail a charger;
He—who unconcerned would stand
All the braying of the band,
Who disdained trombone and drum—
Quailed before that little hum.
I have seen one flaunt his feelers
'Fore the steadiest of wheelers,
And at once the beast would bound,
Kangaroo-like, off the ground.
Lithe o'er moor and marish hie,
Like thy king, the Dragon-fly;
With the burnished bee skim over
Sunlit uplands white with clover;
Or, low-brooding on the lea,
Warn the swain of storms to be!
—Need I tell thee how to act?
Do just anything in fact.
Haunt my cream ('twill make thee plump),
Filch my sugar, every lump;
Round my matin-coat keep dodging,
In my necktie find a lodging
(Only, now that I reflect, I
Rather seldom wear a necktie);
Perforate my Sunday hat;
(It's a new one—what of that?)
Honeycomb my cheese, my favourite,
Thy researches will but flavour it;
132
Basely to my evening tea-cup;
Palter with my final toddy;
But respect my face and body!
Hadst thou been a painted hornet,
Or a wasp, I might have borne it;
But a common fly or gnat!
Come, my friend, get out of that.”
Dancing down, the insect here
Stung him smartly on the ear;
For a while—like some cheap earring—
Clung there, then retreated jeering.
(As men jeer, in prose or rhyme,
So may flies, in pantomime;
We discern not in their buzz
Language, but the poet does.)
Stung him smartly on the ear;
For a while—like some cheap earring—
Clung there, then retreated jeering.
(As men jeer, in prose or rhyme,
So may flies, in pantomime;
We discern not in their buzz
Language, but the poet does.)
Long he deemed him at Death's door;
Then sprang featly to the floor,
Seized his water-jug and drank its
Whole contents; hung several blankets
Round his lair and pinned them fast:
“I shall rest,” he moaned, “at last.”
But anon a ghastlier groan
To the shuddering night made known
That with blanket and with pin
He had shut the creature IN.
Then sprang featly to the floor,
Seized his water-jug and drank its
Whole contents; hung several blankets
Round his lair and pinned them fast:
“I shall rest,” he moaned, “at last.”
But anon a ghastlier groan
To the shuddering night made known
That with blanket and with pin
He had shut the creature IN.
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II. Part II
While unto dawn succeeded day,
Unresting still the Victim lay;
The many-limbed one had its way.
Unresting still the Victim lay;
The many-limbed one had its way.
He heard the stair-clock's tranquil ticks;
When it exultingly struck six,
He gave a score or so of kicks.
When it exultingly struck six,
He gave a score or so of kicks.
“Before to-morrow's sun up-climbs,”
He feebly said, “yon leafy limes,
I'll write a letter to the ‘Times.’”
He feebly said, “yon leafy limes,
I'll write a letter to the ‘Times.’”
Haggard and wan, when noon was nigh,
He rose and flung his window high;
He heard, beneath, an old man's cry.
He rose and flung his window high;
He heard, beneath, an old man's cry.
He strove—but idly strove—to eat;
Till now, to see the potted meat
Vanish before him was a treat.
Till now, to see the potted meat
Vanish before him was a treat.
He strove to write, but strove in vain;
Dark thoughts 'gan shape them in his brain;
He listened to that old man's strain.
Dark thoughts 'gan shape them in his brain;
He listened to that old man's strain.
It rang out, maddeningly distinct;
As he gave ear to it he winked;
He dropped the pen that he had inked.
As he gave ear to it he winked;
He dropped the pen that he had inked.
(Song of Old Man below.)
“Catch-'em-alive! Gentlemen, I've
Here such a dose as no fly can survive.
House-fly, blue-bottle,
Garden-fly—what'll
Save him when once he's got this in his throttle?
Let e'en a wasp dip his nose in the mixture,
Spread on a plate, and that wasp is a fixture.
Buy, buy; give it a try;
Don't be put down by a poor little fly.
Who'll purchase any? Only a penny
Kills you them all, if it's ever so many.”
Here such a dose as no fly can survive.
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Garden-fly—what'll
Save him when once he's got this in his throttle?
Let e'en a wasp dip his nose in the mixture,
Spread on a plate, and that wasp is a fixture.
Buy, buy; give it a try;
Don't be put down by a poor little fly.
Who'll purchase any? Only a penny
Kills you them all, if it's ever so many.”
He bought, he placed some on a plate;
I wis, he had not long to wait;
They ate it at a frightful rate.
I wis, he had not long to wait;
They ate it at a frightful rate.
But on his friend of yesternight
(He knew the animal by sight)
His baffled gaze could ne'er alight.
(He knew the animal by sight)
His baffled gaze could ne'er alight.
At last he noticed the unfeeling
Brute in a casual manner wheeling
Round an excrescence in the ceiling.
Brute in a casual manner wheeling
Round an excrescence in the ceiling.
Self-poised, it eyed the heaps of slain;
But, that it did not entertain
A thought of joining them, was plain.
But, that it did not entertain
A thought of joining them, was plain.
It winged that upper-air till ten,
The bard's retiring-hour; and then
Descending, tackled him again.
The bard's retiring-hour; and then
Descending, tackled him again.
Next morn the young man made his will;
And either shot himself at drill
Or sucked slow poison through a quill.
And either shot himself at drill
Or sucked slow poison through a quill.
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The Thing accurst—the Vaticide—
All wiles for snaring him defied;
And at a good old age he died.
All wiles for snaring him defied;
And at a good old age he died.
This tale (I guarantee it true),
Reader, I dedicate to you.
If you can find its moral, do.
Reader, I dedicate to you.
If you can find its moral, do.
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