1 *~\ /*\ C ^ "T7 iQOSI I MOTHER GOOSE FOK GROWN FOLKS, A CHRISTMAS READINO. ILLUSTRATED BY BILLINGS. NEW YORK: RUDD & CARLETON, 130 GRAND STREET. (BROOKS BCILDING, COKNEK or BROADWAY). M DCCC LX. Kntered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1859, by mil. LIPS, SAMPSON, AND COMPANY, in the Clerk s Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. CONTENTS PAGl INTRODUCTORY . . . . . . . .1 BRAIIMIC G LITTLE BOY BLUE .9 JACK IIOUNER 13 BO-PEEP ...... 18 SOLOMON GRUNDY BOWLS ......... 23 CRADLED IX GREEN 27 V SIMILIA SIMILIBUS" 30 HOBBY-HORSES 34 MISSIONS ... 36 GOING BACK TO OUR MUTTONS .... 40 GOING TO DOVER 44 RAGS AND ROBES . . . . . . . 47 BLACKBIRDS 52 BANBURY CROSS 57 M181394 IV CONTENTS. THE MAD HORSE 62 THE BIG SHOE CK ... DO VICTUALS AND DRINK . . COBWEBS AND BROOMS ... 7g BLACK SPIDERS .... 79 DAFFY-DOWN-DILLY 81 BAA, BAA, BLACK SHEEP. ... g-4 THE TWISTER . oo FANTASY .00 JINGLING AND JANGLING ... 92 THE OLD WOMAN OF SURREY ... 97 PICKLE PEPPERS . . Iv/U HUMPTY DUMPTY .... 10? SUNDAY AND MONDAY ... JQ6 CONCLUSION INTRODUCTORY. SOMEWHERE in that uncertain " long ago," Whose dim and vague chronology is all That elfin tales or nursery fables know, Rose a rare spirit, keen, and quick, and quaint, Whom by the title, whether fact or feint, Mythic or real, Mother Goose we calL Of Momus and Minerva sprang the birth That gave the laughing oracle to earth : i 2 INTRODUCTORY. A brimming bowl she bears, that, frothing high "With sparkling nonsense, seemeth non sense all; Till, the bright, floating syllabub blown by, Lo, in its ruby splendor doth upshine The crimson radiance of Olympian wine By Pallas poured, in Jove s own banquet- hall. The world was but a baby when she came ; So to her songs it listened, and her name Grew to a word of power, her voice a spell "With charm to soothe its infant wearying well. But, in a later and maturer age, Developed to a dignity more sage, Having its Shakspeares and its Words- worths now, INTRODUCTORY. 3 Its Southeys and its Tennysons, to wear A halo on the high and lordly brow, Or poet-laurels in the waving hair ; Its Lowells, Whittiers, Longfellows, to sing Ballads of beauty, like the notes of spring, The wise and prudent ones to nursery use Leave the dear lyrics of old Mother Goose. Wisdom of babes, the nursery Shak- speare still, Cackles she ever with the same good-will : Uttering deep counsels in a foolish guise, That come as warnings, even to the wise ; As when, of old, the martial city slept, Unconscious, of the wily foe that crept Under the midnight, till the alarm was heard Out from the mouth of Rome s plebeian bird. 4 INTRODUCTORY. Full many a rare and subtile thing hath she. Undreamed of in the world s philosophy : Toss-balls for children hath she humbly rolled, That shining jewels secretly enfold ; Sibylline leaves she casteth on the air, Twisted in fool s-caps, blown unheeded by, That, in their lines grotesque, albeit, bear Words of grave truth, and signal prophecy ; And lurking satire, whose sharp lashes hit A world of follies with their homely wit ; With here and there a roughly uttered hint, That makes you wonder at the beauty in t ; As if, along the wayside s dusty edge, A hot-house flower had blossomed in a hedge. INTRODUCTORY. 5 So, like brave Layard in old Nineveh, Among the memories of ancient song, As curious relics, I would fain bestir ; And gather, if it might be, into strong And shapely show, some wealth of its lost lore; Fragments of Truth s own architecture, strewed In forms disjointed, whimsical, and rude, That yet, to simpler vision, grandly stood Complete, beneath the golden light of yore! BEAHMIC. IF a great poet think he sings, Or if the poem think it s sung, They do but sport the scattered plumes That Mother Goose aside hath flung. Far or forgot to me is near: Shakspeare and Punch are all the same ; The vanished thoughts do reappear, And shape themselves to fun or fame. They use my quills, and leave me out, Oblivious that I wear the wings ; BRAHMIC. 7 Or that a Goose has been about, When every little gosling sings. Strong men may strive for grander thought, But, six times out of every seven, My old philosophy hath taught All they can master this side heaven. LITTLE BOY BLUE. " Little boy blue ! come blow your horn ! The sheep in the meadow, the cows in the corn ! Where s little boy blue, that looks after the sheep ? He s under the hay-mow, fast asleep ! " OF morals in novels, we ve had not a few ; With now and then novel moralities too ; And we ve weekly exhortings from pulpit to pew ; But it strikes me, and so it may chance to strike you, Scarce any are better than "Little Boy Blue" 10 LITTLE BOY BLUE. For the veteran dame knows her business right well, And her quaint admonitions unerringly tell: She strings a few odd, careless words in a jingle, And the sharp, latent truth fairly makes your ears tingle. " Azure-robed Youth ! " she cries, " up to thy post! And watch, lest thy wealth be all scattered and lost: Silly thoughts are astray, beyond call of the horn, And passion breaks loose, and gets into the corn! LITTLE BOY BLUE. 11 Is this the way Conscience looks after her sheep ? In the world s soothing shadow, gone sound ly asleep ? " Is n t that, now, a sermon ? No lengthened vexation Of heads, and divisions, and argumenta tion, But a straightforward leap to the sure ap plication ; And, though many a longer harangue is forgot, Of which careful reporters take notes on the spot, I think, as the " Deacon " declared of his "shay," 12 LITTLE BOY BLUE. Pat together for lasting for ever and aye, A like immortality holding in view, The old lady s discourse will undoubtedly "dew"! JACK HORNEE. " Little Jack Homer Sat in a corner Eating a Christmas Pie : He put in his thumb, And pulled out a plum, And said, * What a great boy am I ! " An, the world hath many a Horner, Who, seated in his corner, Finds a Christmas Pie provided for his thumb : And cries out with exultation, When successful exploration Doth discover the predestinated plum ! 14 JACK HORNER. Little Jack outgrows his tire, And becometh John, Esquire ; And he finds a monstrous pasty ready made, Stuffed with notes and bonds and bales, With invoices and sales, And all the mixed ingredients of Trade. And again it is his luck To be just in time to pluck, By a clever " operation/ from the pie An unexpected " plum " ; So he glorifies his thumb, And says, proudly, " What a mighty man ami!" Or perchance, to Science turning, And with weary labor learning All the formulas and phrases that oppress her, JACK HORNER. 15 For the fruit of others baking So a fresh diploma taking, Comes he forth, a full accredited Profes sor! Or he s not too nice to mix In the dish of politics ; And the dignity of office he puts on : And he feels as big again As a dozen nobler men, While he writes himself the Honorable John! Nay, he need not quite despair Of the Presidential Chair : The thing is not unlikely to be done ; Since a party puppet now May wear boldly on its brow The glory that a Webster never won ! 16 JACK HOKNER. Not to hint at female Homers, Who, in their exclusive corners, Think tho world is only made of tipper crust; And in the funny pie That we call Society, Their dainty fingers delicately thrust : Till it sometimes comes to pass, In the spiced and sugared mass, One may compass (don t they call it so ?) a catch And the gratulation given Seems as if the very heaven Had outdone itself in making such a match ! 0, the world keeps Christmas Day In a queer, perpetual way ; Shouting always, " What a great, big Boy ami!" JACK HORNER. 17 Yet how many of the crowd, Thus vociferating loud, And its accidental honors lifting high, Have really, more than Jack, With all their lucky knack, Had a finger in the making of the Pie ? BO-PEEP. " Little Bo-Peep Has lost her sheep, And does n t know where to find em ; Let em alone, And they 11 come home, And bring their tails behind em." HOPE beckoned Youth, and bade him keep, On Life s broad plain, his shining sheep, And while along the sward they came, He called them over, each by name ; This one was Friendship, that was Health; Another Love, another Wealth ; BOPEEP. 19 One, fat, full-fleeced, was Social Station ; Another, stainless, Reputation ; In truth, a goodly flock of sheep, A goodly flock, but hard to keep. Youth laid him down beside a fountain ; Hope spread his wings to scale a mountain ; And, somehow, Youth fell fast asleep, And left his crook to tend the sheep : No wonder, as the legend says, They took to very crooked ways. He woke to hear a distant bleating, The faithless quadrupeds were fleeting ! Wealth vanished first, with stealthy tread, Then Friendship followed to be fed, And foolish Love was after led ; 20 BOPEEP. Fair Fame, alas ! some thievish scamp Had marked him with his own black stamp ! And he, with Honor at his heels, Was out of sight across the fields. Health just hangs doubtful, distant Hope Looks backward from the mountain slope, And Youth himself no longer Youth Stands face to face with bitter Truth. Yet let them go ! T were all in vain To linger here in faith to find em ; Forward ! nor pause to think of pain, Till somewhere, on a nobler plain, A surer Hope shall lead the train Of joys withheld to come again With golden fleeces trailed behind em ! SOLOMON GRUNDY. " Solomon Grundy Born on Monday, Christened on Tuesday, Married on Wednesday, Sick on Thursday, "Worse on Friday, Dead on Saturday, Buried on Sunday : This was the end Of Solomon Grundy." So sings the unpretentious Muse That guides the quill of Mother Goose, And in one week of mortal strife Presents the epitome of Life : 22 SOLOMON GRUNDY. But down sits Billy Shakspeare next, And, coolly taking up the text, His thought pursues the trail of mine, And, lo ! the " Seven Ages " shine ! world ! critics ! can t you see How Shakspeare plagiarizes me ? And other bards will after come, To echo in a later age, " He lived, he died : behold the sum, The abstract of the historian s page " ; Yet once for all the thing was done, Complete in Grundy s pilgrimage. For not a child upon the knee But hath the moral learned of me ; And measured, in a seven days span, The whole experience of man. BOWLS. " Three wise men of Gotham Went to sea in a bowl : If the bowl had been stronger, My song had been longer." MYSTERIOUSLY suggestive ! A vague hint, Yet a rare touch of most effective art, That of the bowl, and all the voyagers in t, Tells nothing, save the fact that they did start. There ending suddenly, with subtle craft, The story stands, as twere a broken shaft, 24 BOWLS. More eloquent in mute signification, Than lengthened detail, or precise relation. So perfect in its very non-achieving, That, of a truth ; I cannot help believing A rash attempt at paraphrasing it May prove a blunder, rather than a hit. Still, I must wish the venerable soul Had been explicit as regards the bowl. Was it, perhaps, a railroad speculation? Or a big ship to carry all creation, That, by some kink of its machinery, Failed, in the end, to carry even three ? Or other fond, erroneous calculation Of splendid schemes that died disastrously ? It must have been of Gotham manufacture ; Though strangely weak, and liable to frac ture. BOWLS. 25 Yet pause a moment strangely, did I say? Scarcely, since, after all, it was but clay ; The stuff Hope takes to build her brittle boat, And therein sets the wisest men afloat. Truly, a bark would need be somewhat stronger, To make the halting history much longer. Doubtless, the good Dame did but gener alize, Took a broad glance at human enterprise, And earthly expectation, and so drew, In pithy lines, a parable most true, Kindly to warn us ere we sail away, With life s great venture, in an ark of clay, 26 BOWLS. Where shivered fragments all around be token, How even the "golden howl" at last lies broken 1 CEADLED IN GEEEN Rockaby, baby, Your cradle is green ; Father s a nobleman, Mother s a queen ; And Betty s a lady, And wears a gold ring, And Johnny s a drummer, And drums for the king J " GOLDEN gift of childhood ! That, with its kingly touch, Transforms to more than royalty The thing it loveth much ! 28 CRADLED IN GREEN. second sight, bestowed alone Upon the baby seer, That the glory held in Heaven s reserve Discerneth even here ! Though he be the humblest craftsman, No silk nor ermine piled Could make the father seem a whit More noble to the child ; And the mother, ah, what queenlier crown Could rest upon her brow, Than the fair and gentle dignity It weareth to him now ? E en the gilded ring that Michael For a penny fairing bought, Is the seal of Betty s ladyhood To his untutored thought; CRADLED IN GREEN. 29 And the darling drum about his neck His very newest toy, A bandsman unto Majesty Hath straightway made the boy ! golden gift of childhood ! If the talisman might last, How the dull Present still should gleam With the glory of the Past ! But the things of earth about us Fade and dwindle as we go, And the long perspective of our life Is truth, and not a show ! "SIMILIA SIMILIBUS." " There was a man in our town, And he was wondrous wise : He jumped into a bramble-bush, And scratched out both his eyes. But when he saw his eyes were out, With all his might and main He jumped into another bush, And scratched them in again ! " OLD Dr. Hahnemann read the tale, (And he was wondrous wise,) Of the man who, in the bramble-bush, Had scratched out both his eyes. "SLMILIA SLMILIBUS." 31 And the fancy tickled mightily His misty German brain, That, by jumping in another bush, He got them back again. So he called it " homo-hop-athy " And soon it came about, That a curious crowd among the thorns Was hopping in and out. Yet, disguise it by the longest name They may, it is no use ; For the world knows the discovery Was made by Mother Goose ! And not alone in medicine Doth the theory hold good: In Life and in Philosophy, The maxim still hath stood : 32 "SIMILIA SIMILIBUS." A morsel more of anything, "When one has got enough, And Nature s energy disowns The whole unkindly stuff. A second negative affirms ; And two magnetic poles Of charge identical, repel, As sameness sunders souls. Touched with a first, fresh suffering, All solace is despised ; But gathered sorrows grow serene, And grief is neutralized. And he who, in the world s melee, Hath chanced the worse to catch, May mend the matter, if he come Back, boldly, to the scratch ; "SIMILU SIMILIBUS." 33 Minding the lesson lie received In boyhood, from his mother, Whose cheery word, for many a bump, Was, Up and take another ! HOBBY-HORSES. " I had a little pony, His name was Dapple Graj: I lent him to a lady To ride a mile away. She whipped him, She lashed him, She rode him through the mire ; I would n t lend my pony now, For all the lady s hire." OUR hobbies, of whatever sort They be, mine honest friend, Of fancy, enterprise, or thought, T is hardly wise to lend. HOBBY-HORSES. 35 Some fair imagination, shrined In form poetic, maybe, You fondly trusted to the World, That most capricious Lady. Or a high, romantic theory, Magnificently planned, In flush of eager confidence You bade her take in hand. But she whipped it, and she lashed it, And bespattered it with mire, Till your very soul felt stained within, And scourged with stripes of fire. Yet take this thought, and hold it fast, Ye Martyrs of To-day That same great World, with all its scorn, You re lifted on its way ! MISSIONS. * Hogs in the garden, Catch em, Towser ! Cows in the cornfield, Run, boys, run ! Fire on the mountains, Run, boys, run boys ! Cats in the cream-pot, Run, girls, run!" I DON T stand up for Woman s Right ; Not I, no, no ! The real lionesses fight, I let it go. MISSIONS. 37 Yet, somehow, as I catch the call Of the world s voice, That speaks a summons unto all Its girls and boys ; In such strange contrast still it rings As church-bells borne To the pert sound of tinkling things One hears at home ; And wakes an impulse, not germane Perhaps, to woman, Yet with a thrill that makes it plain T is truly human ; A sudden tingle at the springs Of noble feeling, The spirit-power for valiant things Clearly revealing. 38 MISSIONS. But Eden s curse doth, daily deal Its certain dole, And the old grasp upon the heel Holds back the soul ! So, when some rousing deed s to do, To save a nation, Or, on the mountains, to subdue A conflagration, Woman ! the work is not for you ; Mind your vocation ! Out from the cream-pot comes a mew Of tribulation! Meekly the world s great exploits leave Unto your betters ; So bear the punishment of Eve, Spirit in fetters ! MISSIONS. 39 Only, the hidden fires will glow, And, now and then, A beacon blazeth out below That startles men ! Some Joan, through battle-field to stake, Danger embracing; Some Florence, for sweet mercy s sake Pestilence facing; Whose holy valor vindicates The royal birth That, for its crowning, only waits The end of earth; And, haply, when we all stand freed, In strength immortal, Such virgin-lamps the host shall lead Through heaven s portal ! GOING BACK TO OUE MUTTONS. u There was an old man of Tobago, Who lived on rice, gruel, and sago, Till, much to his bliss, His physician said this : To a leg, sir, of mutton, you may go. He set a monkey to baste the mutton, And ten pounds of butter he put on." " CHAIN tip a child, and away he will go " ; I have heard of the proverb interpreted so; The spendthrift is son to the miser, and still, When the Devil would work his most piti less will, GOING BACK TO OUR MUTTONS. 41 He sends forth the seven, for such embas sies kept, To the house that is empty and garnished and swept: For poor human nature a pendulum seems, That must constantly vibrate between two extremes. The closer the arrow is drawn to the bow, Once slipped from the string, all the further t will go : Let a panic arise in the world of finance, And the mad flight of Fashion be checked by the chance, It certainly seems a most wonderful thing, When the ropes are let go again, how it will swing ! 42 GOING BACK TO OUR MUTTONS. And even the decent observance of Lent, Stirs sometimes a doubt how the time has been spent, When Easter brings out the new bonnets and gowns, And a flood of gay colors overflows in the towns. So in all things the feast doth still follow the fast, And the force of the contrast gives zest to the last; And until he is tried, no frail mortal can tell, The inch being offered, he won t take the ell. I We are righteously shocked at the follies of fashion; GOING BACK TO OUR MUTTONS. 43 Nay, standing outside, may get quite in a passion At the prodigal flourishes other folks put on: But many good people this side of Tobago, If respited once from their diet of sago, Would outdo the monkey in basting the mutton ! GOING TO DOVER. " Leg over leg As the dog went to Dover ; When he came to a stile, Jump he went over." PERHAPS you would n t see it here, But, to my fancy, t is quite clear That Mother Goose just meant to show How the dog Patience on doth go : With steadfast nozzle, pointing low, Leg over leg, however slow, And labored breath, but naught complaining, Still, at each footstep, somewhat gaining, GOING TO DOVER. Quietly plodding, mile on mile, And gathering for a nervous bound At every interposing stile, So traversing the tedious ground, Till all, tit length, he measures over, And walks, a victor, into Dover. And, verily, no other way Doth human progress win the day ; Step after step, and o er and o er, Each seeming like the one before, So that t is only once a while, When sudden Genius springs the stile That marks a section of the plain, Beyond whose bound fresli fields again Their widening stretch untrodden sweep, The world looks round to see the leap. 46 GOING TO DOVER. Pale Science, in her laboratory, Works on with crucible and wire Unnoticed, till an instant glory Crowns some high issue, as with fire, And men, with wondering eyes awide, Gauge great Invention s giant stride. No age, no race, no single soul, By lofty tumbling gains the goal. The steady pace it keeps between, The little points it makes unseen, By these, achieved in gathering might, It moveth on, and out of sight, And wins, through all that s overpast, The city of its hopes at last. RAGS AND ROBES, Hark, hark ! The dogs do bark ; Beggars are coming to town : Some in rags, Some in tags, And some in velvet gowns I * COMING, coming always ! Crowding into earth ; Seizing on this human life, Beggars from the birth. 48 BAGS AND ROBES. Some in patent penury ; Some, alas ! in shame ; And some in fading velvet Of hereditary fame ; But all in deep, appeaseless want, As mendicants to live ; And go beseeching through the world, For what the world may give. Beggars, beggars, all of us ! Expectants from our youth : With hands outstretched, and asking alms Of Hope and Love and Truth. Nor, verily, doth he escape Who, wrapt in cold contempt, Denies alike to giv^ or take, And dreams himself exempt; RAGS AND ROBES. 49 Who never, in appeal to man, Nor in a prayer to Heaven, Will own that aught he doth desire, Or ask that aught be given. Whose human heart a stoic pride Folds as a velvet pall ; Yet hides a meagreness within, Worse beggary than all ! Coming, coming always ! And the bluff Apostle waits As the throng pours upward from the earth To Heaven s eternal gates. In shreds of torn affection, In passion-rended rags; 50 RAGS AND ROBES. While scarcely at the portal The great procession flags ; For the pillared doors of glory On their hinges hang awide ; Where each asking soul may enter, And at last be satisfied ! But a cold, calm shade arriveth, In self-complacent trim, And Peter riseth up to see Especially to him. " Good morrow, saint ! I m going in To take a stroll, you know ; Not that I want for anything, But just to see the show ! " " Hold ! " thunders out the warden, " Be pleased to pause a bit ! RAGS AND ROBES. 51 For seats celestial, let me say, You re not apparelled fit : Yonder s the brazen door that leads Spectators to the pit ! Whatever may be thought on earth, We ve other rules in heaven ; And only poverty confessed Finds free admittance given ! " BLACKBIRDS. " Sing a song o sixpence, a pocket full of rye ; Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie : When the pie was opened, they all began to sing, And was n t this a dainty dish to set before the king ? The king was in his counting-house, counting out his money ; The queen was in the parlor, eating bread and honey ; The maid was in the garden, hanging out the clothes, And along came a blackbird, and nipt off her nose ! " IT does n t take a conjurer to see The sort of curious pasty this might be ; A flock of flying rumors, caught alive, And housed, like swarming bees within a hive, BLACKBIRDS. 53 Instead of what were far more wisely done, Having their worthless necks wrung, every one ; And so a dish of dainty gossip making, Smooth covered with a show of secrecy, That one but takes the pleasant pains of breaking, And out the wide-mouthed knaves pop, eagerly. Blackbirds, indeed! Each chattering on- dit Comes forth, full feathered, black as black can be ; With quivering throats, all tremulous to sing, And please, forsooth, some little social king; 54 BLACKBIRDS. Whose reign may last as long as he is able To call his court around a dinner-table. But, mark the sequel ! When the laugh is over, Think not to get the varlets under cover : The crust once broken, you may seek in vain To catch the birds, or coax them in again ; Mrs. Pandora s famous box, I wis, Was nothing worse than such a pie as this : And so, some pleasant morning, when, down town, The king is busy with his bags of money, Leaving at home the queenly Mrs. Brown Safe at her breakfast of fair bread and honey, Some quiet, harmless soul, who never knows Of any matters, save the plain pursuing BLACKBIRDS. 55 Her daily round, the hanging out of clothes Or other lawful work she may be doing, Finds, by the sudden nipping of her nose, What sort of mischief is about her brew ing ! Not that, indeed, there s anything to hinder The thieves from flying though the parlor window ; For never yet could sentinel or warden Keep scandals wholly to the kitchen gar den. When, therefore, as not seldom it may be, Even in the soberest community, Strange revelations somehow get about, Like a mysterious cholera breaking out 56 BLACKBIRDS. Sudden, as Egypt s blains neath Aaron s rod, Contagious by a whisper or a nod, When daily papers teem with many a hint That daubs them darker even than their print ; When it would seem, in short, the very D Had let his little imps out on a spree ; Conclude, beyond a reasonable doubt, Although, perhaps, you fail to trace it out, Such plagues spring not unbidden from the ground, And, if the thing were sifted, t would be found Somebody s sown a pocket full of rye, Or been regaling on a blackbird pie ! BANBUEY CEOSS. " Ride a fine horse To Banbury Cross, To see a young woman Jump on a white horse. Rings on her fingers, And bells on her toes, And she shall have music Wherever she goes.* PROPHETIC Dame ! What hadst thou in thy view ? A modern wedding in Fifth Avenue ? 58 BANBURY CROSS. Where, like the goddess of a heathen shrine, With offerings heaped in such a glittering show As must have emptied a Peruvian mine, And would suggest, but that we better know, Marriage must be a bitter thing indeed, And, like the Prophet of the Eastern tale, Must wear a very ugly face, to need Such careful shrouding in the silver veil, Her bridal pomp, as a white palfrey, mount ing? Caparisoned at cost beyond all counting, With diamond-jewelled fingers, and the toes Ditto, for all that anybody knows, BANBURY CROSS. 59 The smiling damsel goeth to the Banns ? (Why add the "bury," or suggest the " cross," As if such brilliant ringing of the hands Preluded aught of trial or of loss ?) Shall not Life s golden bells still tinkle sweet, And merry music make about her feet ? Shall not the silver sheen around her spread, A lasting light along her pathway shed ? No mocking satire, surely, hides a sting, Nor bitter irony a truth foreshows, In the gay chant the cheery dame doth sing, "She shall have music wheresoe er she goes " ? 60 B ANBURY CROSS. She shall have music ! Shall she sit apart, And let the folly-chimes outvoice the tone That comes up wailing to the listening heart, From the great world, where misery maketh moan ? Ah, Mother Goose ! if such the tale it tells, Sing us no more your rhyme of rings and bells! But may not t were a rare device in deed ! The wondrous oracle in both ways read ? And call up, as a fair beatitude, The gracious vision of true womanhood, That with pure purpose, and a gentle might, Upheld and borne, as by the steed of white, BANBURY CROSS. Cl Pledged with her golden ring, goes nobly forth To trace her path of joy along the earth, And, as she moves, makes music, silver-shod " With preparation of the peace " of God, That holds the key-note of celestial cheer, And hangs heaven s echoes round her foot steps here ? THE MAD HORSE. " There was a mad man, And he had a mad wife, And the children were mad beside ; So on a mad horse They all of them got, And madly away did ride." SAGACIOUS Goose ! Fresh wonders yet ! What spell had power to help you get Those seven-leagued spectacles, that see Down to the nineteenth century ? " The mad world, and his madder wife ! " That, in your earlier time of life, THE MAD HORSK. 63 Though quite demented now, tis plain, - Were sober, grave, and almost sane ! And all the tribes, a motley brood Sprung into being since the flood, With their hereditary bent To cerebral bewilderment ! If some old ghost, precise and slow, Who died a hundred years ago, Always supposing he himself Has lain, meanwhile, upon the shelij Tilings as they are might only see, Surely his inference would be A simultaneous bursting out Of lunacy the earth about. 64 THE MAD HORSE. ". The world is mad ; his wife is mad ; The rising generation s madder " ; And when a charter can be had, Up to the moon they 11 build a ladder ! They caught a horse awhile ago, They called him Steam, but he was slow ; After the lightning then they ran, Caught him, and now they drive the span! THE BIG SHOE. " There was an old woman Who lived in a shoe ; She had so many children She did n t know what to do: To some she gave broth, And to some she gave bread, And some she whipped soundly, And sent them to bed." Do you find out the likeness ? A portly old Dame, The mother of millions, Britannia by name : THE BIG SHOE. And howe er it may strike you In reading the song Not stinted in space For bestowing the throng ; Since the Sun can himself Hardly manage to go, In a day and a night, From the heel to the toe. On the arch of the instep She builds up her throne, And, with seas rolling under, She sits there alone ; With her heel at the foot Of the Himmalehs planted, And her toe in the icebergs, Unchilled and undaunted. THE BIG SHOE. 67 Yet though justly of all Her fine family proud, T is no light undertaking To rule such a crowd ; Not to mention the trouble Of seeing them fed, And dispensing with justice The broth and the bread. Some will seize upon one, Some are left with the other, And so the whole household Gets into a pother. But the rigid old Dame Has a summary way Of her own, when she finds There is mischief to pay. She just takes up the rod, As she lays down the spoon, THE BIG SHOE. And makes their rebellious backs Tingle right soon : Then she bids them, while yet The sore smarting they feel, To lie down, and go to sleep, Under her heel ! Only once was she posed, When the little boy Sam, Who had always before Been as meek as a lamb, Refused to take tea, As his mother had bid, And returned saucy answers Because he was chid. Not content even then, He cut loose from the throne, THE BIG SHOE. 69 And set about making A shoe of his own ; Which succeeded so well, And w r as filled up so fast, That the world, in amazement, Confessed, at the last, Looking on at the work With a gasp and a stare, That t was hard to tell w r hich Would be best of the pair. Side by side they are standing Together to-day ; Side by side may they keep Their strong foothold for aye : And beneath the broad sea, Whose blue depths intervene, May the finishing string Lie unbroken between ! VICTUALS AND DRINK. " There once was a woman, And what do you think ? She lived upon nothing But victuals and drink. Victuals and drink Were the chief of her diet, And yet this poor woman Scarce ever was quiet.* AND were you so foolish As really to think That all she could want Was her victuals and drink ? VICTUALS AND DRINK. 71 And that while she was furnished With that sort of diet, Her feeling and fancy Would starve, and be quiet ? Mother Goose knew far better; But thought it sufficient To give a mere hint That the fare was deficient ; For I do not believe She could ever have meant To imply there was reason For being content. Yet the mass of mankind Is uncommonly slow To acknowledge the fact It behooves them to know ; 72 VICTUALS AND DRINK. Or to learn that a woman Is not like a mouse, Needing nothing but cheese, And the walls of a house. But just take a man, Shut him up for a day ; Get his hat and his cane, Put them snugly away ; Give him stockings to mend, And three sumptuous meals; And then ask him, at night, If you dare, how he feels ! Do you think he will quietly Stick to the stocking, While you read the news, And " don t care about talking " ? VICTUALS AND DRINK. 73 O, many a woman Goes starving, I ween, AVho lives in a palace, And fares like a queen ; Till the famishing heart, And the feverish brain, Have spelled out to life s end The long lesson of pain. Yet, stay ! To my mind An uneasy suggestion Comes up, that there may be Two sides to the question. That, while here and there proving Inflicted privation, The verdict must often be " Wilful starvation." Of T<wir fife - . L.-.L. : -- .-.; VICTUALS AND DRINK. And t is he to whose lips But earth s ashes are given, For whom the full banquet Is gathered in heaven ! COBWEBS AND BROOMS. " There was an old woman Tossed up in a blanket, Seventeen times as high as the moon ; What she did there I cannot tell you, But in her hand she carried a broom. Old woman, old woman, Old woman, said I, O whither, O whither, O whither so high? To sweep the cobwebs Off the sky, And I 11 be back again, by and by." MIND you, she wore no ivings, That she might truly soar ; no time was lost COS WEDS AXI> BROOMS. 77 In growing such unnecessary things; But blindly, in a blanket, she was tost I Spasmodically, too ! Twas not enough that she should reach the moon ; But seventeen times the distance she must do, Lest, peradventure, she get back too soon. That emblematic broom ! Besom of mad Reform, uplifted high, That, to reach cobwebs, would precipitate doom, And sweep down thunderbolts from out the sky! 78 COBWEBS AND BROOMS. Doubtless, no rubbish lay About her door, no work was there to do, - That through the astonished aisles of Night and Day, She took her valorous flight in quest of new! Lo ! at her little broom The great stars laugh, as on their wheels of fire They go, dispersing the eternal gloom, And shake Time s dust from off each blazing tire ! BLACK SPIDERS. " Little Miss Muffet Sat on a tuffet, Eating curds and whey : There came a black spider, And sat down beside her, And frightened Miss Muffet away." To all mortal blisses, From comfits to kisses, There s sure to be something by way of alloy ; Each new expectation Brings fresh aggravation, And a doubtful amalgam s the best of our 80 BLACK SPIDERS. You may sit on your tuffet ; Yes, cushion and stuff it ; And provide what you please, if you don t fancy whey; But before you can eat it, There ll be I repeat it Some sort of black spider to come in the way. DAFFY-DOWN-DILLY. " Daffy-down-dilly Is new come to town, "With a petticoat green, And a bright yellow gown, And her little white blossoms Are peeping around." Now don t you call this A most exquisite thing ? Don t it give you a thrill With the thought of the spring, Such as once, in your childhood, You felt, when you found 6 82 DAFFY-DOWN-DILLY. The first yellow buttercups Spangling the ground ? When the lilac was fresh With its glory of leaves, And the swallows came fluttering Under the eaves ? When the bluebird flashed by Like a magical thing, And you looked for a fairy Astride of his wing ? When the clear, running water, Like tinkling of bells, Bore along the bare roadside A song of the dells, And the mornings were fresh With unfailing delight, DAFFV-DOWN-D1LLV. 83 While the sweet summer hush Always came with the night ? daffy-down-dilly, With robings of gold ! As our hearts every year To your coming unfold, And sweet memories stir Through the hardening mould, We feel how earth s blossomings Surely are given To keep the soul fresh For the spring-time of heaven ! BAA, BAA, BLACK S] " Baa, baa, black sheep I Have you any wool? Yes, sir, no, sir, Three bags full. One for my master, One for my dame, And one for the little boy That lives in the lane." J T is the same question as of old 5 And still the doubter saith, " Can any good be made to come From out of Nazareth ? " BAA, BAA, BLACK SHEEP ! 85 No sheep so black in all the flock, No human heart so bare, But hath some warm and generous stock Of kindliness to share. It may be treasured secretly For dear ones at the hearth ; Or be bestowed by stealth along The by-ways of the earth ; And though no searching eye may see, Nor busy tongue may tell, Perchance, where largest love is laid, The Master knoweth well ! THE TWISTER. " A twister, in twisting, would twist him a twist, And, twisting his twists, seven twists he doth twist $ If one twist, in twisting, untwist from the twist, The twist, untwisting, untwists the twist." A RAVELLED rainbow overhead Lets down to life its varying thread : Love s blue, Joy s gold, and, fair be tween, Hope s shifting light of emerald green ; With, either side, in deep relief, A crimson Pain, a violet Grief. THE TWISTER. 8 Wouldst thou, amid their gleaming hues, Clutch after those, and these refuse ? Believe, as thy beseeching eyes Follow their lines, and sound the skies, There, where the fadeless glories shine, An unseen angel twists the twine. And be thou sure, what tint soe er The broken rays beneath may wear, It needs them all, that, broad and white, God s love may weave the perfect light ! FANTASY. u I have a little sister, They call her peep, peep ; She wades through the water, Deep, deep, deep ; She climbs up the mountains, High, high, high; My poor little sister, She has but one eye ! " ROUGH Common Sense doth here confess Her kinship to Imagination ; Betraying also, I should guess, Some little pride in the relation. FANTASY. 89 For even while vexed, and puzzled too, By the vagaries of the latter, Fearful what next the child may do, She looks with loving wonder at her. Plain Sense keeps ever to the road That s beaten down and daily trod ; While Fancy fords the rivers wide, And scrambles up the mountain-side: By which exploits she s always getting Either a tumble or a wetting. While simple Sense looks straight before, Fancy " peeps " further, and sees more ; And yet, if left to walk alone, May chance, like most long-sighted people, To trip her foot against a stone While gazing at a distant steeple. 90 FANTASY. Nay, worse ! with all her grace erratic, And feats aerial and aquatic, Her flights sublime, and moods ecstatic, She of the vision wild and high Hath but a solitary eye ! And, not to quote the Scripture, which Forebodes the falling in the ditch, Doubtless by following such a guide Blindly, in all her wanderings wide, The world, at best, would get o one side. What then ? To rid us of our doubt Is there no other thing to do But we must turn poor Fancy out, And only downright Fact pursue ? Ah, see you not, bewildered man ! The heavenly beauty of the plan ? FANTASY. 91 T was so ordained, in counsels high, To give to sweet Imagination A single deep and glorious eye ; But then t was meant, in compensation, That Common Sense, with optics keen, As maid of honor to a queen, On her blind side should always stay, And keep her in the middle way. JINGLING AND JANGLING. " Little Jack Jingle Used to live single. But when he got tired Of that kind of life, He left off being single, And lived with his wife." YOUR period s pointed, most excellent Moth er ! Pray what did he do when he tired of the other? For a man so deplorably prone to ennui But a queer sort of husband is likely to be. JINGLING AND JANGLING. 93 The fatigue might recur, and, in case it should be so, Why not take a wife on a limited lease, O ? Grant the privilege, pray, to his idiosyn crasy, Some natures won t bear to be too closely pinned, you see, And, at worst, the poor Benedict might advertise, When weary, at length, of the light of his eyes, Or failing to find her, it may be, in salt, "Disposed of, indeed, for no manner of fault," (To borrow a figure of speech from the mart,) " But because the late owner has taken a start!" 94 JINGLING AND JANGLING. I believe once before you have cautiously said Something quite as concise on this delicate head, When distantly hinting at "needles and pins," And that " when a man marries, his trouble begins " ; But I don t recollect that you ever pretend To prophesy anything as to the end. Unless we may learn it of Peter, the bumpkin, Kenowned for naught else but his eating of pumpkin ; Whose wife I don t see how he happened to get her Had a taste, very likely, for things that were better: JINGLING AND JANGLING. 95 Since, fearing to lose her, at last it be fell He bethought him of shutting her up in a shell ; By which brilliant contrivance she kept very well ! What he did with her next, the tradition don t say, But she seems to be somehow got out of the way, For the ill-fated Peter was wedded once more, To find his bewilderment worse than be fore; If the first for her spouse had but small predilection, Now t was his turn, alas ! to fall short in affection. 96 JINGLING AND JANGLING. And how do you think that he conquered the evil ? Why, simply by lifting himself to her level; By leaving his pumpkins, and learning to spell, He came, saith the story, to love her right well; And the mythical memoir its moral con trives For the lasting instruction of husbands and wives. THE OLD WOMAN OF SURREY. " There was an old woman in Surrey, Who was morn, noon, and night in a hurry ; Called her husband a fool, Drove the children to school, The worrying old woman of Surrey." T WAS an ancient earldom over the sea, And it must be now as it used to be ; Yet the sketch is of one 1 have known before, The very old woman that lives next door. 7 98 THE OLD WOMAN OF SURREY. One thing is unquestionable, she s " smart/ As they say of an apple that s rather tart ; For her nearest friends, I think, would allow her To be, at her best, but a " pleasant sour." There s a certain electrical atmosphere That you feel beforehand, when she s near : And unless you ve a wonderful deal of pluck A shrinking fear that you might be " struck." She moves with such a bustle and rush, Such an elemental stir and crush, As makes the branches bend and fall In the breeze that blows up a thunder-squall. THE OLD WOMAN OF SURREY. 99 And yet, it is only her endless " hurry " ; She s not so bad if she would n t " worry," And, for all the worlds that she has to make, If the six days time she d only take. You may talk about Surrey, or Devon, or Kent, But I doubt if a special location was meant ; It may sound severe, but it seems to me That a " representative " woman was she ; And that here and there you may chance to trace Some specimens extant of the race : For a slip of the stock, as I ve a notion, Somehow "in the Mayflower" crossed the ocean. PICKLE PEPPEES. Peter Piper picked a peck of pickle peppers ; And a peck of pickle peppers Peter Piper picked ; If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickle peppers Where s the peck of pickle peppers Peter Piper picked?" POOR Peter toiled his life away, That afterward the world might say " "Where is the peck of peppers he Did gather so industriously ? " The peppers are embalmed in metre, But who, alas ! inquires for Peter ? PICKLE PEPPERS. 101 In sun or storm, by night and day, Scant time for sleep, and none for play, Still the poor fool did nothing reck, If only he might pick his peck : And what result from all hath sprung, But just to bite somebody s tongue ? Or, Lady Fortune playing fickle, Get some one in a precious pickle? HUMPTY DUMPTY. " Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall : Humpty Dumpty had a great fall : Not all the king s horses nor all the king s men Could set Humpty Dumpty up again." FULL many a project that never was hatched Falls down, and gets shattered beyond be ing patched ; And luckily, too ! for if all came to chick ens, Then things without feathers might go to the dickens. HUMPTY DUMPTY. 103 If each restless unit that moves among men Might climb to a place with the privileged ten," Pray tell us where all the commotion would stop ! Must the whole pan of milk, forsooth, rise to the top ? If always the statesman attained to his hopes, And grasped the great helm, who would stand by the ropes ? Or if all dainty fingers their duties might choose, Who would wash up the dishes, and polish the shoes? Suppose every aspirant writing a book Contrived to get published, by hook or by crook ; 104 HUMPTY DUMPTY. Geologists then of a later creation Would be startled., I fancy, to find a forma tion Proving how the poor world did most wo- fully sink Beneath mountains of paper, and oceans of ink! Or even suppose all the women were mar ried; By whom would superfluous babies be car ried ? Where would be the good aunts that should knit all the stockings ? Or nurses, to do up the singings and rock- ings ? Wise spinsters, to lay down their wonderful rules, HUMPTY DUMPTY. 105 And with theories rare to enlighten the fools, Or to look after orphans, and primary schools ? No ! Failure s a part of the infinite plan ; Who finds that he can t, must give way to who can ; And as one and another drops out of the race, Each stumbles at last to his suitable place. So the great scheme works on, though, like eggs from the wall, Little single designs to such ruin may fall, That not all the world s might, of its horses or men, Could set their crushed hopes at the sum mit again. SUNDAY AND MONDAY. " As Tommy Snooks and Bessy Brooks Were walking out one Sunday, Says Tommy Snooks to Bessy Brooks, To-morrow will be Monday." No doubt you are smiling at such a remark, And thinking poor Snooks but a pitiful spark ; But the words have a meaning, worth look ing for, too, As I ll presently try and demonstrate for you. SUNDAY AND MONDAY. 107 Twas a pity, indeed, in that moment of leisure, To dampen poor Bessy s hebdomadal pleas ure, Suggesting that close on the beautiful Sun day Must come all the common-place horrors of Monday ; That he to his toiling, and she to her tub, Must turn, and take up with another week s rub; Yet a truth for us all, since the shade of the real Follows fast on the track of each sunny ideal. 108 SUNDAY AND MONDAY. Now and then we may pause on Life s pleasant oases ; But between lie the desert s grim, desolate spaces ; And our feet, with all patience, must trav erse them still, Reaching forward to blessing, through bearing of ill. Yet for Snooks and his Bessy, for me and for you, Comes a Saturday night when the wage will be due ; And we ll say to each other, in ecstasy, one day, u To-morrow the endless to-morrow is Sunday ! " CONCLUSION. DOUBTLESS I might go on to quote, With added paraphrase and note, Enough of rhymes to fill a scroll, That, bundled up, should be a roll As bulky as a broad-brimmed hat ; But " verbum sapienti sat ! " Suffice it to have struck the vein, And shown some specimens of ore ; If any seek for further gain, The mine still holds abundance more. A mental pickaxe and a biggin Are all you need to go to diggin . 110 CONCLUSION. For, as the Swedish seer contends, All things comprise an inner sense ; There s nothing we can write or say, In howsoever simple way, But seems a body, built to hide The soul, that straightway is supplied ; And many a fool, and prophet too, Hath spoken wiser than he knew. One parting word, and I am gone : If I ve prevailed to make you see These things as they appear to me, Then have I proved my Goose a Swan ; And I, descended of her line, And bearing yet the ancient name, May, for this ancestress of mine, Claim place upon the page of fame ; That not a bard of Saxon tongue More true to nature ever sung ; CONCLUSION. Ill More surely soothed, more deeply taught, Or passing fact more keenly caught ; And that exalted side by side With him of Avon, in the pride And love of millions we should lay The tribute at her feet to-day That owns her, in this latter age, Goose, truly, but, in savor, Sage ! THE END. 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This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. l2 ]arf50WB Dec 55ED MOM 12Nov 58Kff REC D LD OCT291958 10Nov 59VP REC D LD OCT271959 LD 21-100m-9, 48(B399sl6)476 M181304 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 811 liiiiii * - . f,f J t\y .J\>*\>r- vV W\,/- V- \(r ^ K?w f(X>fX>i>v>m>Wv> .-