 | The Ingoldsby Lyrics |  |
Ode.
[_]
In the autumn of 1824, Captain Medwin having hinted that certain beautiful lines on the burial of Sir John Moore might have been the production of Lord Byron's Muse, Mr. Sydney Taylor, somewhat indignantly claimed them for their rightful owner, the late Rev. Charles Wolfe. During the controversy a third claimant started up in the person of a soi-disant “Dr. Marshall,” who turned out to be a Durham blacksmith, and his pretensions a hoax. It was then that a certain “Dr. Peppercorn” put forth his pretensions to what he averred was the only “true and original” version, viz. :—
Not a sous had he got—not a guinea or note;
And he look'd confoundedly flurried,
As he bolted away without paying his shot,
And the landlady after him hurried.
And he look'd confoundedly flurried,
As he bolted away without paying his shot,
And the landlady after him hurried.
107
We saw him again at dead of night,
When home from the club returning;
We twigg'd the Doctor beneath the light
Of the gas-lamps, brilliantly burning.
When home from the club returning;
We twigg'd the Doctor beneath the light
Of the gas-lamps, brilliantly burning.
All bare and expos'd to the midnight dews,
Reclined in the gutter we found him;
And he look'd like a gentleman taking a snooze,
With his Marshall cloak around him.
Reclined in the gutter we found him;
And he look'd like a gentleman taking a snooze,
With his Marshall cloak around him.
“The Doctor's as drunk as the D—” we said,
And we managed a shutter to borrow;
We rais'd him, and sigh'd at the thought that his head
Would consumedly ache on the morrow.
And we managed a shutter to borrow;
We rais'd him, and sigh'd at the thought that his head
Would consumedly ache on the morrow.
We bore him home and we put him to bed,
And we told his wife and his daughter
To give him next morning a couple of red-
Herrings with soda water.
And we told his wife and his daughter
To give him next morning a couple of red-
Herrings with soda water.
Loudly they talk'd of his money that's gone,
And his Lady began to upbraid him;
But little he reck'd, so they let him snore on,
'Neath the counterpane just as we laid him.
And his Lady began to upbraid him;
But little he reck'd, so they let him snore on,
'Neath the counterpane just as we laid him.
108
We tuck'd him in, and had hardly done,
When beneath the window calling,
We heard the rough voice of a son of a gun
Of a watchman “one o'clock” bawling.
When beneath the window calling,
We heard the rough voice of a son of a gun
Of a watchman “one o'clock” bawling.
Slowly and sadly we all walked down
From his room in the uppermost story;
A rushlight we placed on the cold hearth-stone,
And we left him alone in his glory.
From his room in the uppermost story;
A rushlight we placed on the cold hearth-stone,
And we left him alone in his glory.
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