 | The Ingoldsby Lyrics |  |
64
The Mad Dog!!!
Mad Dog!—Mad Dog!—
A horrid Mad Dog
Is running about the town,
And all take flight
To the left and the right
Wherever his nose is shown;
For he barks, and he howls, and he snaps, and he yelps,
At the Dogs, and the Bitches, and all the little Whelps.
A horrid Mad Dog
Is running about the town,
And all take flight
To the left and the right
Wherever his nose is shown;
For he barks, and he howls, and he snaps, and he yelps,
At the Dogs, and the Bitches, and all the little Whelps.
Still he keeps roaming,
Grinning, and foaming,
And Folks know not what to do,
For he runs as he goes,
And his eyes and his nose,
All are running too!
His eyes 'tis said,
Are “set in his head,”
Which makes them the more to quail;
I own to me
More fearful 'twould be
If his eyes were set in his tail!
Grinning, and foaming,
And Folks know not what to do,
For he runs as he goes,
And his eyes and his nose,
All are running too!
His eyes 'tis said,
Are “set in his head,”
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I own to me
More fearful 'twould be
If his eyes were set in his tail!
This fierce mad dog, this horrid mad dog,
Hath set both country and town agog;
Some think 'tis the very Dog Star himself,
With his own heat grown delirious;
Sam Rogers says “No,
It can never be so,
As he grins he can't be Sirius.”
Everybody dreads abroad to stir
All out of fear of this terrible cur.
Hath set both country and town agog;
Some think 'tis the very Dog Star himself,
With his own heat grown delirious;
Sam Rogers says “No,
It can never be so,
As he grins he can't be Sirius.”
Everybody dreads abroad to stir
All out of fear of this terrible cur.
For he hath nibbled a power of folks,
Lords and Squires of high degree;
The Rich and the Proud,
And the Vulgar crowd,
Lowly Peasant, or high born Dame,
Whoever he bites 'tis all the same,
All are gone mad as mad may be!
Lords and Squires of high degree;
The Rich and the Proud,
And the Vulgar crowd,
Lowly Peasant, or high born Dame,
Whoever he bites 'tis all the same,
All are gone mad as mad may be!
He hath bitten a Parliament man,
One Mister --- ---,
'Twas sad to see
The poor M.P.
When he began to rave;
At once, 'tis said,
All memory fled,
He knew no more what he had done than the dead,
Lost all recollection
About his election,
And his Leicester friends didled in high perfection;
They'd bills by the score,
But stoutly he swore
He'd see them all d—d ere he paid any more.
Down to Hastings the Doctors agree
Mister — must go and be dipt in the sea.
One Mister --- ---,
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The poor M.P.
When he began to rave;
At once, 'tis said,
All memory fled,
He knew no more what he had done than the dead,
Lost all recollection
About his election,
And his Leicester friends didled in high perfection;
They'd bills by the score,
But stoutly he swore
He'd see them all d—d ere he paid any more.
Down to Hastings the Doctors agree
Mister — must go and be dipt in the sea.
This dog hath bitten the Queen of Song,
Alack that it so should be!
“Like sweet bells jangled out of tune”
Is now all her melody.
She hath stooped from her airy height
Where she soared a peerless bird,
With kestrel kites and crows obscene
For evermore to herd.
Alack! that one so fair and so bright,
Whom haply we deem'd a thing of light,
Should sink to a gulf so dark and so low;
Alack, alack! that it should be so!
He hath bitten a huge Tom Cat
Of the genuine Yorkshire breed;
Alack for “Pussy!” alack! alack!
How he cocks up his tail, how he sets up his back,
He hath gone very mad indeed.—
In his amorous rage
He hath pounced on a cage,
And borne off the Linnet
That sang within it;
Oh ne'er was such caterwauling heard
As when “Pussy” ran off with that favourite bird.
Alack that it so should be!
“Like sweet bells jangled out of tune”
Is now all her melody.
She hath stooped from her airy height
Where she soared a peerless bird,
With kestrel kites and crows obscene
For evermore to herd.
Alack! that one so fair and so bright,
Whom haply we deem'd a thing of light,
Should sink to a gulf so dark and so low;
Alack, alack! that it should be so!
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Of the genuine Yorkshire breed;
Alack for “Pussy!” alack! alack!
How he cocks up his tail, how he sets up his back,
He hath gone very mad indeed.—
In his amorous rage
He hath pounced on a cage,
And borne off the Linnet
That sang within it;
Oh ne'er was such caterwauling heard
As when “Pussy” ran off with that favourite bird.
Run, neighbours, run—make no delay,
The Dog is snapping at all in his way;
He hath laid hold
Of a warrior bold
Who served for glory and not for gold.
The Colonel hath doffed his sabre and plume,
He hath gone into the little Green-room,
He lectureth there
The frail and the fair;
Good Lord! how the Thespian heroines stare
To hear their Giovanni
Who wooed so many,
And never was constant a week to any,
With air demure and sanctified look,
Talking away like a printed book!
Some smil'd, some winked, and said with a grin,
“'Tis a new farce,—‘The Devil rebuking sin.’”
The Dog is snapping at all in his way;
He hath laid hold
Of a warrior bold
Who served for glory and not for gold.
The Colonel hath doffed his sabre and plume,
He hath gone into the little Green-room,
He lectureth there
The frail and the fair;
Good Lord! how the Thespian heroines stare
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Who wooed so many,
And never was constant a week to any,
With air demure and sanctified look,
Talking away like a printed book!
Some smil'd, some winked, and said with a grin,
“'Tis a new farce,—‘The Devil rebuking sin.’”
This Dog hath bitten—Oh woe is me!—
A Market Gardener of high degree;
Imperial Peas
No longer please,
An Imperial Crown he burneth to seize!
Early Cucumbers, Windsor Beans,
Cabbages, Cauliflowers, Brocoli, Greens,
Gherkins to pickle, Apples to munch,
Radishes fine, five farthings a bunch,
Carrots red, and Turnips white,
Parsnips yellow no more delight,
He spurneth lettuces, onions, and leeks,
He would be Sovereign Prince of the Greeks;
No more in a row,
A goodly show,
His Highness's carts to market go!
Yet still I heard Sam Rogers hint,
He hath no distaste to celery or mint;
A different whim
Now seizeth him,
And Greece for his part may sink or may swim,
For they cry that he
Would Regent be,
And rule fair England from sea to sea;
Oh! never was mortal man so mad,—
Alack! alack, for the Gardener-lad!
A Market Gardener of high degree;
Imperial Peas
No longer please,
An Imperial Crown he burneth to seize!
Early Cucumbers, Windsor Beans,
Cabbages, Cauliflowers, Brocoli, Greens,
Gherkins to pickle, Apples to munch,
Radishes fine, five farthings a bunch,
Carrots red, and Turnips white,
Parsnips yellow no more delight,
He spurneth lettuces, onions, and leeks,
He would be Sovereign Prince of the Greeks;
No more in a row,
A goodly show,
His Highness's carts to market go!
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He hath no distaste to celery or mint;
A different whim
Now seizeth him,
And Greece for his part may sink or may swim,
For they cry that he
Would Regent be,
And rule fair England from sea to sea;
Oh! never was mortal man so mad,—
Alack! alack, for the Gardener-lad!
Oh horrible! horrible! worse and worse!
This Dog is an absolute national curse.
That a cur should so presume!
To the Parliament House he hath forced his way,
No Serjeant-at-arms may keep him at bay,
Poor Robert Quarme
Flies in alarm,
Rickman and Ley
Are as frighten'd as he,
He hath bitten great Henry Brougham!
'Twould quite amaze ye
To see how crazy
This great man grew in his three-tailed jasey.
“Fools,” and “Knaves,”
And “Rogues,” and “Slaves,”
“Smatterers,” “Chatterers,”
“Sycophant Flatterers—”
Good Lord! what names to the right and left
The “puir bodie” threw when of sense bereft;
Till up jumped Peel,
And to cool his zeal
Tipt him a mild “persuader,”
Beneath his frown
At once sunk down
The poor demented upbraider.
At once, and why we may well divine,
He ceased to bark and began to whine,
Since that dose full well I trow
He hath not uttered one little “Bow wow.”
This Dog is an absolute national curse.
That a cur should so presume!
To the Parliament House he hath forced his way,
No Serjeant-at-arms may keep him at bay,
Poor Robert Quarme
Flies in alarm,
Rickman and Ley
Are as frighten'd as he,
He hath bitten great Henry Brougham!
'Twould quite amaze ye
To see how crazy
This great man grew in his three-tailed jasey.
“Fools,” and “Knaves,”
And “Rogues,” and “Slaves,”
70
“Sycophant Flatterers—”
Good Lord! what names to the right and left
The “puir bodie” threw when of sense bereft;
Till up jumped Peel,
And to cool his zeal
Tipt him a mild “persuader,”
Beneath his frown
At once sunk down
The poor demented upbraider.
At once, and why we may well divine,
He ceased to bark and began to whine,
Since that dose full well I trow
He hath not uttered one little “Bow wow.”
Rejoice, Rejoice,
With heart and with voice,
None now will be bitten except by choice,
For Alderman Wood,
“So Wise, and so Good,”
Hath brought in a bill to crush the whole brood.
You may now lay hold of a mad-dog's tail,
And pull him backwards into a jail,
And the Lord May'r, no doubt,
Will never let him out
Unless he “produce satisfactory bail!”
Rejoice, Rejoice,
With heart and with voice,
All the little Girls and all the little Boys!
Let all of us shout, and sing, and say
Huzza for Alderman Wood! Huzza!
With heart and with voice,
None now will be bitten except by choice,
For Alderman Wood,
“So Wise, and so Good,”
Hath brought in a bill to crush the whole brood.
You may now lay hold of a mad-dog's tail,
And pull him backwards into a jail,
And the Lord May'r, no doubt,
Will never let him out
Unless he “produce satisfactory bail!”
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With heart and with voice,
All the little Girls and all the little Boys!
Let all of us shout, and sing, and say
Huzza for Alderman Wood! Huzza!
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