DEAR TOM, have you forgot the day When, long ago, we used to stray Among the "Haddams"? Where, in the mucky road, a man (The road was built on Adam's plan, And not McAdam's!) Went down -- down -- down, one stormy night, And disappeared from human sight All save his hat, -- Which raised in sober minds a sense Of some mysterious Providence In sparing that? I think 't will please you, Tom, to hear The man who in that night of fear Went down terrestrial, Worked out a passage like a miner, And, pricking through somewhere in China, Came up Celestial! Ah! those were memorable times, And worth embalming in my rhymes, When, at the summons Of chapel bell, we left our sport For lessons most uncommon short, Or shorter commons1 I mind me, Tom, you often drew Nice portraits, and exceeding true -- To your intention! The most impracticable faces Discovered unsuspected graces, By your invention. On brainless heads the finest bumps (Erected by your pencil-thumps) Were plainly seen; Your Yankees all were very Greek, Unchosen aunts grew "choice antique," And blues turned green! The swarthy suddenly were fair, And yellow changed to auburn hair Or sunny flax; And people very thin and flat, Like Aldermen grew round and fat On canvas-backs! I well remember all your art To make the best of every part, -- I am certain no man Could better coax a wrinkle out, Or elevate a lowly snout, Or snub a Roman! Young gentlemen with leaden eyes Stared wildly out on lowering skies, Quite Corsair-fashion; And greenish orbs got very blue, And linsey-woolsey maidens grew Almost Circassian! And many an ancient maiden aunt As lean and lank as John O'Gaunt, Or even lanker, By art transformed and newly drest, Could boast for once as full a chest As -- any banker! Ah! we were jolly youngsters then, But now we're sober-sided men, Half through life's journey; And you've turned author, Tom, I hear, -- And I -- you'll think it very queer -- Have turned attorney! Heaven bless you, Tom, in house and heart! (That we should live so far apart Is much a pity,) And may you multiply your name, And have a very "crescent" fame, Just like your city! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE OLD ENEMY by SARA TEASDALE THE FAIREST THING IN MORTAL EYES by CHARLES D'ORLEANS THE ERL-KING by JOHANN WOLFGANG VON GOETHE MR. FLOOD'S PARTY by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON EPITAPH ON CHARLES II by JOHN WILMOT THE CHRYSANTHEMUMS by AUGUSTE ANGELLIER TO A GARDEN -- ON LEAVING IT by WILLIAM BARNES YELLOW CLOVER by KATHARINE LEE BATES BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS: BOOK 1. THE SECOND SONG by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |