The Humorous Poetry of the English Language; from Chaucer to Saxe Part 47

THE YANKEE VOLUNTEERS.

W. MAKEPEACE THACKERAY.

["A surgeon of the United States army says, that on inquiring of the Captain of his company, he found THAT NINE-TENTHS of the men had enlisted on account of some female difficulty."]--Morning Paper.

Ye Yankee volunteers!

It makes my bosom bleed When I your story read, Though oft 'tis told one.

So--in both hemispheres The woman are untrue, And cruel in the New, As in the Old one!

What--in this company Of sixty sons of Mars, Who march 'neath Stripes and Stars, With fife and horn, Nine tenths of all we see Along the warlike line Had but one cause to join This Hope Folorn?

Deserters from the realm Where tyrant Venus reigns, You slipped her wicked chains, Fled and out-ran her.

And now, with sword and helm, Together banded are Beneath the Stripe and Star- embroidered banner!

And so it is with all The warriors ranged in line, With lace bedizened fine And swords gold-hilted-- Yon l.u.s.ty corporal, Yon color-man who gripes The flag of Stars and Stripes-- Has each been jilted?

Come, each man of this line, The privates strong and tall, "The pioneers and all,"

The fifer nimble-- Lieutenant and Ensign, Captain with epaulets, And Blacky there, who beats The clanging cymbal--

O cymbal-beating black, Tell us, as thou canst feel, Was it some Lucy Neal Who caused thy ruin?

O nimble fifing Jack, And drummer making din So deftly on the skin, With thy rat-tattooing.

Confess, ye volunteers, Lieutenant and Ensign, And Captain of the line, As bold as Roman-- Confess, ye grenadiers, However strong and tall, The Conqueror of you all Is Woman, Woman!

No corselet is so proof, But through it from her bow, The shafts that she can throw Will pierce and rankle.

No champion e'er so tough, But's in the struggle thrown, And tripped and trodden down By her slim ankle.

Thus, always it has ruled, And when a woman smiled, The strong man was a child, The sage a noodle.

Alcides was befooled, And silly Samson shorn, Long, long ere you were born, Poor Yankee Doodle!

COURTs.h.i.+P AND MATRIMONY.

A POEM, IN TWO CANTOS.

PUNCH.

CANTO THE FIRST.

COURTs.h.i.+P.

Fairest of earth! if thou wilt hear my vow, Lo! at thy feet I swear to love thee ever; And by this kiss upon thy radiant brow, Promise afiection which no time shall sever; And love which e'er shall burn as bright as now, To be extinguished--never, dearest, never!

Wilt thou that naughty, fluttering heart resign?

CATHERINE! my own sweet Kate! wilt thou be mine?

Thou shalt have pearls to deck thy raven hair-- Thou shalt have all this world of ours can bring, And we will live in solitude, nor care For aught save for each other. We will fling Away all sorrow--Eden shall be there!

And thou shalt be my queen, and I thy king!

Still coy, and still reluctant? Sweetheart say, When shall we monarchs be? and which the day?

CANTO THE SECOND.

MATRIMONY.

Now MRS. PRINGLE, once for all, I say I will not such extravagance allow!

Bills upon bills, and larger every day, Enough to drive a man to drink, I vow!

Bonnets, gloves, frippery and trash--nay, nay, Tears, MRS. PRINGLE, will not gull me now-- I say I won't allow ten pounds a week; I can't afford it; madam, do not speak!

In wedding you I thought I had a treasure; I find myself most miserably mistaken!

You rise at ten, then spend the day in pleasure;-- In fact, my confidence is slightly shaken.

Ha! what's that uproar? This, ma'am, is my leisure; Sufficient noise the slumbering dead to waken!

I seek retirement, and I find--a riot; Confound those children, but I'll make them quiet!

CONCERNING SISTERS-IN-LAW.

PUNCH.

I.

They looked so alike as they sat at their work, (What a pity it is that one isn't a Turk!) The same glances and smiles, the same habits and arts, The same tastes, the same frocks, and (no doubt) the same hearts The same irresistible cut in their jibs, The same little jokes, and the same little fibs-- That I thought the best way to get out of my pain Was by--HEADS for Maria, and WOMAN for Jane; For hang ME if it seemed it could matter a straw, Which dear became wife, and which sister-in-law.

II.

But now, I will own, I feel rather inclined To suspect I've some reason to alter my mind; And the doubt in my breast daily grows a more strong one, That they're not QUITE alike, and I've taken the wrong one.

Jane is always so gentle, obliging, and cool; Never calls me a monster--not even a fool; All our little contentions, 'tis she makes them up, And she knows how much sugar to put in my cup:-- Yes, I sometimes HAVE wished--Heav'n forgive me the flaw!-- That my very dear wife was my sister-in-law.

III.

Oh, your sister-in-law, is a dangerous thing!

The daily comparisons, too, she will bring!

Wife--curl-papered, slip-shod, unwashed and undressed; She--ringleted, booted, and "fixed in her best;"

Wife--sulky, or storming, or preaching, or prating; She--merrily singing, or laughing, or chatting: Then the innocent freedom her friends.h.i.+p allows To the happy half-way between mother and spouse.

In short, if the Devil e'er needs a cat's-paw, He can't find one more sure than a sister-in-law.

IV.

That no good upon earth can be had undiluted Is a maxim experience has seldom refuted; And preachers and poets have proved it is so With abundance of tropes, more or less apropos.

Every light has its shade, every rose has its thorn, The cup has its head-ache, its poppy the corn, There's a fly in the ointment, a spot on the sun-- In short, they've used all ill.u.s.trations--but one; And have left it to me the most striking to draw-- Viz.: that none, without WIVES, can have SISTERS-IN-LAW.

THE LOBSTERS.

[Footnote: Appeared at the time of the Anti-popery excitement, produced by the t.i.tles of Cardinal Wiseman, etc.]

PUNCH.