BLACKSMITH AND JOINER (WITHOUT LICENCE) AT GRETNA GREEN. AH me! what causes such complaining breath, Such female moans, and flooding tears to flow? It is to chide with stern, remorseless Death, For laying Laing low! From Prospect House there comes a sound of woe -- A shrill and persevering loud lament Echoed by Mrs. J.'s Establishment "For Six Young Ladies, In a retired and healthy part of Kent." All weeping, Mr. L ---- gone down to Hades! Thoughtful of grates, and convents, and the veil! Surrey takes up the tale, And all the nineteen scholars of Miss Jones With the two parlour-boarders and th' apprentice -- So universal this mis-timed event is -- Are joining sobs and groans! The shock confounds all hymeneal planners And drives the sweetest from their sweet behaviours; The girls at Manor House forget their manners, And utter sighs like paviours! Down -- down through Devon and the distant shires Travels the news of Death's remorseless crime; And in all hearts, at once, all hope expires Of @3matches@1 against time! Along the northern route The road is water'd by postilions' eyes; The topboot paces pensively about, And yellow jackets are all strained with sighs; There is a sound of grieving at the Ship, And sorry hands are ringing at the Bell, In aid of David's knell. The postboy's heart is cracking -- not his whip -- To gaze upon those useless empty collars His way-worn horses seem so glad to slip -- And think upon the dollars That used to urge his gallop -- quicker! quicker! All hope is fled For Laing is dead -- Vicar of Wakefield -- Edward Gibbon's vicar! The barristers shed tears Enough to feed a snipe (snipes live on suction), To think in after years No suits will come of Gretna green abduction, Nor knaves inveigle Young heiresses in marriage scrapes or legal. The dull reporters Look truly sad and seriously solemn To lose the future column On Hymen-Smithy and its fond resorters! But grave Miss Daulby and the teaching brood Rejoice at quenching the clandestine flambeau -- That never real beau of flesh and blood Will henceforth lure young ladies from their @3Chambaud@1. Sleep -- David Laing -- sleep In peace, though angry governesses spurn thee! Over thy grave a thousand maidens weep, And honest postboys mourn thee! Sleep, David! -- safely and serenely sleep, Be-wept of many a learned legal eye! To see the mould above thee in a heap Drowns many a lid that heretofore was dry! -- Especially of those that, plunging deep In love, would "ride and tie!" -- Had I command, thou shouldst have gone thy ways In chaise and pair -- and lain in Pere-la-Chaise! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE VOLUNTEER by ELBRIDGE JEFFERSON CUTLER TO ALFRED TENNYSON, MY GRANDSON by ALFRED TENNYSON AT LAST by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER LILIES: 16. MY GIFT by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) YOU, WHO HAVE SONS TO SPARE! by L. ALLEN BECK THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 26. ASKING FOR HER HEART. CHRISTMAS by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT LINES WRITTEN ON VISITING A SCENE IN ARGYLESHIRE by THOMAS CAMPBELL |