The following beautiful lines, which occur in The Princess, have been the subject of many parodies : Home they brought her warrior dead; She nor swoon'd nor utter'd cry: All her maidens, watching, said, "She must weep or she will die." Yet she neither spoke nor moved. Stole a maiden from her place, Lightly to the warrior stept, Rose a nurse of ninety years, Set his child upon her knee- An excellent parody, by Shirley Brooks, appeared in Punch, December 30, 1865. HOME THEY BROUGHT. (With abject apologies to Mr. Tennyson, Miss Dance, and Miss Dolby). HOME they brought her lap-dog dead, JEAMES to Buttons, winking, said, Then they called the flyman low, Said his baseness could be proved: How she to the Beak should goYet she neither spoke nor moved. Said her maid (and risked her place), "In the 'ouse it should have kept, Flymen drives at such a pace "— Still the lady's anger slept. Rose her husband, best of dears, Laid a bracelet on her knee. Like playful child she boxed his ears "Sweet old pet !-let's have some tea." And the following by Mr. Sawyer is also worthy of preservation : THE RECOGNITION. Home they brought her sailor son, Hand to shake and mouth to kiss, The 1842 volume of Tennyson's works contained a short poem in four verses entitled A FAREWELL. Flow down, cold rivulet, to the sea, Thy tribute wave deliver: No more by thee my steps shall be, For ever and for ever. * A thousand suns will stream on thee, A thousand moons will quiver; But not by thee my steps shall be, For ever and for ever. The following parody is taken from Odd Echoes from Oxford, 1872. A FAREWEll. After sleeping in the Argyle Hotel, Dunoon. Bite on, thou pertinacious flea, And draw the tiny river; No more for thee my blood shall be, Bite, fiercely bite, and take with glee And here will toss some wretched he, A thousand limbs may smart for thee, A still closer imitation of the versification of the original is contained in The Shotover Papers, published in Oxford in 1874 Rise up, cold reverend, to a see, Yet ne'er 'neath thee my seat will be Preach, softly preach, in lawn and be But ne'er 'neath thee my seat shall be And here shall sleep thine alderman, A thousand men shall sneer at thee, But ne'er 'neath thee my seat shall be ODE TO ALDGATE PUMP. Flow down, false rivulet, to the sea The dust of citizens of yore, Who dwelt beside the river, And leakages of sewers pour Into thy stream for ever. A thousand hands may pump from thee, A thousand pails deliver Their sparkling draughts, but not to me For ever and for ever. Oh, let them lock thy nozzle up, And drain thee to the river; Nor any mortal fill his cup Again from thee for ever. From Funny Folks. THE UNDERGRAD. His fists across his breast he laid, "He has been drinking half the day." All black and blue, like cloud and skies, This is taken from Odd Echoes from Oxford, 1872, and is a parody on The Beggar Maid and King Cophetua, which was also in the 1842 collection. In a little volume by C. S. Calverley entitled "Fly Leaves," (George Bell & Sons, 1878) there are several clever parodies, and one, entitled Wanderers, is an especially happy imitation of the style of Tennyson's Brook : THE TINKER. I turn'd me to the tinker, who I asked him where he lived--a stare As on he trudged: I rightly judged THE RINKER By Alfred TenRY SIG, I start from home in happy mood, But first I linger by the brink, For when I'm fairly on the rink, Then "follow me," I loudly call, At skating I'm so clever, For men may come, and men may fall, I chatter with my little band And sometimes we go hand in hand, I slip, I slide, I glance, I glide, And after me I draw them I now come to a clever and most amusing little work entitled Puck en Frana by H. Chas mondeley-Pennell, which was published about sixteen years ago by the late Mr. John Camion Hotten. In the original edition this work was a small quarto, with numerous illustrations & në a characteristic frontispiece designed and etched by dear old George Cruikshank it lassine DA through numerous editions, and is now included in the series known as The Magis de. published by Chatto and Windes It opens the following parodies:-"Song of lacha Water, after Lager: The Da Ch Controversy," after The 51 Car Sa "The Fight for the Championship" after Tom Macamay; How the Daughters come down at Dunoon," after Robert Shutter ; “ Was ever wId' after Tom Moore; Exexolor:"ater ImtTLUN S Excelsior; "Charge of the Light, Irish Brigade" after Tennyson. The incidents referred to in the last-mentioned parody have now somewhat faded from the public memory. It is suficient to say that the warlike behaviour of the one brigade was que as great a contrast to the action of the other, as the parody here given presents to the original poem : CHARGE OF THE LIGHT (ASH' BRIGADE Southward Ho-Here we go! It would be difficult to find a better example both of the merits, and, so far as mere parody is concerned, of the defects of Mr. Cholmondeley Pennell's style than in the following lines, which he has kindly permitted me to insert in this collection. They parody the Morte D'Arthur: LINES SENT TO THE LATE CHARLES BUXTON, M.P., WITH MY FAVOURITE HUNTER, WHITE-MIST. The sequel of to-day dissevers all This fellowship of straight riders, and hard men To hounds-the flyers of the hunt. I think That we shall never more in days to come I tear me from this passion that I loved- Now, therefore, take my horse, which was my pride IN THE SCHOOLS AT OXFORD. TO AN EXAMINER. (Suggested by the Laureate's conundrum "In the Garden at Swaintson.") Butcher boys shouted without, Talked as they walked into me. Shadows of three live men, and you were one of the three. Butcher boys sang in the streets, The bobby was far away, In their usual maddening way.— Still in the Schools quite courteous you were torturing men all the day. Two dead men have I known, Now I will settle with thee. Three dead men must I score, and thou art the last of the three. REGNOLD GREENLEAF. |