Classic Poem

Monday evening—took my place—
Went to a dance at nine o'clock,—
Jigged all the colour out of my face
And reached my lodgings at crow of cock. November 3rd

Packed up my luggage till half past four,
Got up at six, and drank some tea,
And set off as cold as the frozen sea,—
Wished goodbye—took my hats and umbrella—
And shivered and shook to the White Horse cellar.
Sat on the top of the stage and four—
For Robinson half an hour or more,—
Rattled and rumbled down the Strand
Where the mudscrapers stood in a dingy band,
And rode away from London smoke,
Or ever the light of day had broke.
Chelsea and Fulham and Putney Bridge,—
And Kingston on Thames with its banks of sedge,—
Esher and Cobham, how cold they were!—
Oh! it was enough to make anyone swear!
—Thumped my feet till I made them ache,—
Took out provisions, a meal to make,—
Offered a sandwich,—(I had but three,)—
To my neighbour, who sat with a shaky knee,
‘Sir’—said she with a glutinous grin,
‘I'll thank you for two , as they seem but thin,—
And shall feel quite glad if you'll give one 'arter,
To this here young lady wot's my darter.’—
As good as her word was the brazen wretch,
Down went three sandwiches all at a stretch.
—Ripley—Guildford and Godalming too—
Whitley—Northchapel and Chittingfold gate—
Saw us looking as black and blue
As a spoonful of milk in an empty plate.
After the coach at Petworth ran—
(He and his wife,) a hugey man—
Quite as globose as a harvest moon,
Up he got, and 'twas B. Colhoun.
—Down Fittleworth Hill we made a dash,
And walked on foot up Bury Hill side,—
Half hot—half cold—like a luke-warm hash,
And as stiff as a lobster's claw—wot's tied.
Arundel town at length reached we,
As early as ten minutes after three.
Went to the Bank: found no one there—
Wanted a dinner—the cupboard was bare,—
Set off to Peppering—Cloky and I—
Over the hard chalk merrily—
Halfway there heard a horrible clack—
—Sister and nephews coming back—
Couldn't return with them—nonsense quite—
So posted away in the dusky light—
And five o'clock it might very well be,
Ere I caught a glimpse of the old elm tree,
And popped on my friends like a powder puff—
Ha—Ha—Ha—!—it was merry enough!
Gobbled enough to choke Goliath—
Drank my tea—and sat by the fire;
Saw the baby—that unique child—
Who squeaked—and stared—and sniffed—and smiled;—
Then went to bed with a very good will
And fell asleep ere you'd swallow a pill. November 4th

Wednesday, rose before the sun,—
And scrambled away o'er stile and gate,—
Left a note to say where I'd run,—
And got to Arundel—just at eight.
Breakfast over—up the hill,
With Sarah to Brookfield sallied forth,
White frost covering the country still,—
Just like a frozen syllabub froth:
Saw the children—ate some oysters — and went out to see the boys:—
Found them performing sundry strides,—
Some by skates and some by slides,—
Went back, and fixed to come and stay
On Sunday next, then came away.
Found the wind blew vastly bitterly,—
Called at Lyminster—John at home,—
Looked at the plates of Roger's Italy,—
Talked of reform and Chancellor Brougham:—
Back to Arundel made a run,—
And finished a lunch at half past one:
Out again—and called at Tower
House, and staid for half an hour.
Walked again with Sister Sarah,
Through roads which surely never looked barer,—
Woods of gloomy and leafless trees,
All in a state of shiver and freeze:
Into the town again and dressed,—
Devoured a dinner with infinite zest:—
Went with the Streets to tea next door,—
Wardropers—Blanches and two or three more;—
Played at Backgammon and Chess with James,
—Got beaten, and gammoned at sundry games,—
Eat stewed oysters at supper time,—read
Original verses—and went to bed. November 5th

Thursday. Breakfasted. Cold again—
Dismal and half inclined to rain,—
Walked with Sarah to Hampton Beach,—
Saw the sea twirl like a vomiting leech,—
Walked up and down by the grumbling tide
Till our noses looked like Capsicums dried,—
Half-past eleven—left behind,
The soap-suddy waves,—and boisterous wind,
—After demolishing buns and bread—
And making our visages vulgarly red,—
Called at Brookfield for half a minute,
But didn't go in—for no one was in it,—
Went to Calceto and stayed some time
With Mrs George—till one o'clock chime,—
Then home again—And calls of course—
And dined upon mutton and capers sauce.
After dinner—popped next door—
And sat a dozen minutes or more,—
Went into Uncle Richard's—at first,—
Just in order to see Miss Hurst,—
But found a lot of people there—
So stayed—to drive away toothache and care.
—Back then we went then—one and all,
And here Miss Bischoff had a fall.
And then we reached, as we'd designed—
Miss Upperton's—And then we dined,—
And lastly, setting off again,
Just as the day was on the wane,
We got to Arundel at last,
At five o'clock—or rather past.

And thus Ma'am, in these dogg'rel verses
All the remarkable reverses
Of fortune, which we met, as how—
Through our strange wanderings, you know—
Conclusion now—by saying that I
Can never forget them certainly,—
And hoping that your wine may be
As good to all infinity
Of time, and that your pears mayn't spoil,—
But multiply—like Widow's oil—
I have the pleasure to sign here,
Myself—Yours most obliged—