DOI Heft:
January 24, 1874
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16938#0042
34
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[January 24, 1874.
AN ORNAMENT TO SOCIETY.
(ONE THAT MIGHT BE DISPENSED WITH.)
NOT QUITE IN TIME!
Ah, who would patronage forego,
That knew he could bestow it well ?
Not thou, warm-hearted Robert Lowe !
No ; would he, Shade of Sherief Bell f
The sick man’s prayer for three months’ grace
He must refuse, and he denies ;
But tears run down that genial face
From beaming and benignant eyes.
What though the Sheriff, stricken down,
A proxy would provide and pay ?
Stern sense of duty to the Crown
Hade Robert take his place away.
His service long, of value great,
The gracious Robert would confess
He fully did appreciate ;
Must send him packing, ne’ertheless.
Reply considerate, fair, and kind,
Despatched to reach the sufferer’s bed ;
But ere it came, he had resigned
His post and all, for Bell was dead.
Sad news, which, when to Robert’s ears
It came, yet brought some comfort still,
That served to moderate those tears
With which his eyes again would fill.
It was the Sheriff’s fate to die
Ere on his heart refusal fell
Crushing ; and Robert’s sweet reply
Did therefore not kill Sheriff Bell.
What solace must that thought afford
To pitying Robert’s gentle breast,
Which with regret might else be gored
That somewhat might disturb his rest!
Long life to Robert ; may its end
Not hastened be by such a blow
As that which chanced not to descend
On Sheriff Bell from Robert Lowe.
Gloomy and Dissipated Youth (who has discovered that Life is not loorth
having). “ I hope I shan't be Alive after Thirty/”
Unsympathetic Elderly Party. “ Is there any particular Necessity that
YOU SHOULD BE ALIVE TILL THIRTY?”
Affecting Sympathy.—A Clown walked up to a
Woodman, exhausted with toil in his work of felling a
tree. The feeling Buffoon exclaimed, “ Poor feller ! ”
NEW RUSSIAN BONDS.
{Jan. 20th, 1874.)
“ For dark and true and tender is the north.”
Tennyson—The Princess.
Punch Epithalamionises.
Yes, my Alfred, thou sing’st truly,
In and of the Princess, too :
Were that “dark” not linked unduly
With the “ tender ” and the “ true.”
Witness Russia’s skies of splendour,
Stars and moons, more bright yet tender,
Than illume our midnight blue.
Moons that shine like those fair maidens,
Who precede a fairer bride,
To the wedding-music’s cadence
Moving, stately, side by side—
Virgin moons, with promise laden,
That look latest on the maiden
Ere her nuptial knot is tied.
Let rude Boreas, baffled stormer,
Shake the Winter-Palace door,
For Russ frosts and snows the warmer
Be the Loves for them in store.
Hiems, come in aid of Hymen !
Chains, we know, a frosty time in,
Glow the fiercer the more frore.*
Show thy fair face from the Palace,
Maiden Marie, fur-encased—-
An Aurora Borealis,
Rosy fingered, rosy faced !
Wedlock’s sledge, for life-long riding,
Waits ! Young Love his pair is guiding :
A fond arm is round thy waist.
Hark the sledge-bells—how they jingle,
With a merry marriage chime!
See, the warm breaths, how they mingle!
Hark, the young hearts beating time !
May the mutual faiths now plighted
Keep those two hearts thus united
All their day, ’twixt eve and prime.
May the power that fate apportions
Prince and peasant, foul or fair,
Life for them, most rare of fortunes,
A la Montague Russe prepare :
Easy climb and smooth descending,
No upset to make an ending,
En culhute, for this young pair.
As the Prince the altar ’s nearing,
Through the frosty air there swells,
Faint, far-off, yet plain to hearing,
Music as of English bells :
Songs of English voices singing,
With that subtlest sweetness ringing,
That warm hearts’ well-wishing tells.
Though Jack Frost be Ocean’s gaoler,
Thanks to lightning-wires below,
Blessing to our young Prince-Sailor
And our Sailor’s bride shall flow—
Bull and Bear may, from their wedding,
More good-will and less blood-shedding
In the future hope to know.
M oons, that usher one of honey—
Tricksy moon, whose gifts of gold
Prove, too often, fairy-money,
Turned to dust, before ’tis told,
Be this pair to thee beholden
For joys long-lived as they’re golden,
Glowing as thy beams are cold.
Lo, yon, where, his bear-skin dress in,
His own torch to warm his toes,
Ready with both banns and blessing,
Hymen his chill fingers blows !
A la Russe we ’ll have this marriage,
Full of flowers, nor yet disparage
Wedlock’s solids for its shows.
Then we know her fair and merry,
In the blossom of her spring,
Rosy cheeks and lips of cherry,
Eyes that laugh, and arms that cling.
Ask of any naval tailor
What’s the right wear for a sailor—•
‘ ‘ Russia Duck ” he ’ll say’s the thing 1
* Everybody knows, or ought to know, the effect of intense cold in causing metal to feel red-hot.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[January 24, 1874.
AN ORNAMENT TO SOCIETY.
(ONE THAT MIGHT BE DISPENSED WITH.)
NOT QUITE IN TIME!
Ah, who would patronage forego,
That knew he could bestow it well ?
Not thou, warm-hearted Robert Lowe !
No ; would he, Shade of Sherief Bell f
The sick man’s prayer for three months’ grace
He must refuse, and he denies ;
But tears run down that genial face
From beaming and benignant eyes.
What though the Sheriff, stricken down,
A proxy would provide and pay ?
Stern sense of duty to the Crown
Hade Robert take his place away.
His service long, of value great,
The gracious Robert would confess
He fully did appreciate ;
Must send him packing, ne’ertheless.
Reply considerate, fair, and kind,
Despatched to reach the sufferer’s bed ;
But ere it came, he had resigned
His post and all, for Bell was dead.
Sad news, which, when to Robert’s ears
It came, yet brought some comfort still,
That served to moderate those tears
With which his eyes again would fill.
It was the Sheriff’s fate to die
Ere on his heart refusal fell
Crushing ; and Robert’s sweet reply
Did therefore not kill Sheriff Bell.
What solace must that thought afford
To pitying Robert’s gentle breast,
Which with regret might else be gored
That somewhat might disturb his rest!
Long life to Robert ; may its end
Not hastened be by such a blow
As that which chanced not to descend
On Sheriff Bell from Robert Lowe.
Gloomy and Dissipated Youth (who has discovered that Life is not loorth
having). “ I hope I shan't be Alive after Thirty/”
Unsympathetic Elderly Party. “ Is there any particular Necessity that
YOU SHOULD BE ALIVE TILL THIRTY?”
Affecting Sympathy.—A Clown walked up to a
Woodman, exhausted with toil in his work of felling a
tree. The feeling Buffoon exclaimed, “ Poor feller ! ”
NEW RUSSIAN BONDS.
{Jan. 20th, 1874.)
“ For dark and true and tender is the north.”
Tennyson—The Princess.
Punch Epithalamionises.
Yes, my Alfred, thou sing’st truly,
In and of the Princess, too :
Were that “dark” not linked unduly
With the “ tender ” and the “ true.”
Witness Russia’s skies of splendour,
Stars and moons, more bright yet tender,
Than illume our midnight blue.
Moons that shine like those fair maidens,
Who precede a fairer bride,
To the wedding-music’s cadence
Moving, stately, side by side—
Virgin moons, with promise laden,
That look latest on the maiden
Ere her nuptial knot is tied.
Let rude Boreas, baffled stormer,
Shake the Winter-Palace door,
For Russ frosts and snows the warmer
Be the Loves for them in store.
Hiems, come in aid of Hymen !
Chains, we know, a frosty time in,
Glow the fiercer the more frore.*
Show thy fair face from the Palace,
Maiden Marie, fur-encased—-
An Aurora Borealis,
Rosy fingered, rosy faced !
Wedlock’s sledge, for life-long riding,
Waits ! Young Love his pair is guiding :
A fond arm is round thy waist.
Hark the sledge-bells—how they jingle,
With a merry marriage chime!
See, the warm breaths, how they mingle!
Hark, the young hearts beating time !
May the mutual faiths now plighted
Keep those two hearts thus united
All their day, ’twixt eve and prime.
May the power that fate apportions
Prince and peasant, foul or fair,
Life for them, most rare of fortunes,
A la Montague Russe prepare :
Easy climb and smooth descending,
No upset to make an ending,
En culhute, for this young pair.
As the Prince the altar ’s nearing,
Through the frosty air there swells,
Faint, far-off, yet plain to hearing,
Music as of English bells :
Songs of English voices singing,
With that subtlest sweetness ringing,
That warm hearts’ well-wishing tells.
Though Jack Frost be Ocean’s gaoler,
Thanks to lightning-wires below,
Blessing to our young Prince-Sailor
And our Sailor’s bride shall flow—
Bull and Bear may, from their wedding,
More good-will and less blood-shedding
In the future hope to know.
M oons, that usher one of honey—
Tricksy moon, whose gifts of gold
Prove, too often, fairy-money,
Turned to dust, before ’tis told,
Be this pair to thee beholden
For joys long-lived as they’re golden,
Glowing as thy beams are cold.
Lo, yon, where, his bear-skin dress in,
His own torch to warm his toes,
Ready with both banns and blessing,
Hymen his chill fingers blows !
A la Russe we ’ll have this marriage,
Full of flowers, nor yet disparage
Wedlock’s solids for its shows.
Then we know her fair and merry,
In the blossom of her spring,
Rosy cheeks and lips of cherry,
Eyes that laugh, and arms that cling.
Ask of any naval tailor
What’s the right wear for a sailor—•
‘ ‘ Russia Duck ” he ’ll say’s the thing 1
* Everybody knows, or ought to know, the effect of intense cold in causing metal to feel red-hot.