diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/fntsm10.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/fntsm10.txt | 3022 |
1 files changed, 3022 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/old/fntsm10.txt b/old/fntsm10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3c6fec1 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/fntsm10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3022 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Phantasmagoria and Other Poems, by Lewis Carroll +(#5 in our series by Lewis Carroll) + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Phantasmagoria and Other Poems + +Author: Lewis Carroll + +Release Date: September, 1996 [EBook #651] +[This file was first posted on September 17, 1996] +[Most recently updated: September 2, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, PHANTASMAGORIA AND OTHER POEMS *** + + + + +Transcribed from the 1911 Macmillan and Co. edition by David Price, +email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk + + + + +PHANTASMAGORIA AND OTHER POEMS + + + + +PHANTASMAGORIA + + + +CANTO I--The Trystyng + + + +One winter night, at half-past nine, +Cold, tired, and cross, and muddy, +I had come home, too late to dine, +And supper, with cigars and wine, +Was waiting in the study. + +There was a strangeness in the room, +And Something white and wavy +Was standing near me in the gloom - +_I_ took it for the carpet-broom +Left by that careless slavey. + +But presently the Thing began +To shiver and to sneeze: +On which I said "Come, come, my man! +That's a most inconsiderate plan. +Less noise there, if you please!" + +"I've caught a cold," the Thing replies, +"Out there upon the landing." +I turned to look in some surprise, +And there, before my very eyes, +A little Ghost was standing! + +He trembled when he caught my eye, +And got behind a chair. +"How came you here," I said, "and why? +I never saw a thing so shy. +Come out! Don't shiver there!" + +He said "I'd gladly tell you how, +And also tell you why; +But" (here he gave a little bow) +"You're in so bad a temper now, +You'd think it all a lie. + +"And as to being in a fright, +Allow me to remark +That Ghosts have just as good a right +In every way, to fear the light, +As Men to fear the dark." + +"No plea," said I, "can well excuse +Such cowardice in you: +For Ghosts can visit when they choose, +Whereas we Humans ca'n't refuse +To grant the interview." + +He said "A flutter of alarm +Is not unnatural, is it? +I really feared you meant some harm: +But, now I see that you are calm, +Let me explain my visit. + +"Houses are classed, I beg to state, +According to the number +Of Ghosts that they accommodate: +(The Tenant merely counts as WEIGHT, +With Coals and other lumber). + +"This is a 'one-ghost' house, and you +When you arrived last summer, +May have remarked a Spectre who +Was doing all that Ghosts can do +To welcome the new-comer. + +"In Villas this is always done - +However cheaply rented: +For, though of course there's less of fun +When there is only room for one, +Ghosts have to be contented. + +"That Spectre left you on the Third - +Since then you've not been haunted: +For, as he never sent us word, +'Twas quite by accident we heard +That any one was wanted. + +"A Spectre has first choice, by right, +In filling up a vacancy; +Then Phantom, Goblin, Elf, and Sprite - +If all these fail them, they invite +The nicest Ghoul that they can see. + +"The Spectres said the place was low, +And that you kept bad wine: +So, as a Phantom had to go, +And I was first, of course, you know, +I couldn't well decline." + +"No doubt," said I, "they settled who +Was fittest to be sent +Yet still to choose a brat like you, +To haunt a man of forty-two, +Was no great compliment!" + +"I'm not so young, Sir," he replied, +"As you might think. The fact is, +In caverns by the water-side, +And other places that I've tried, +I've had a lot of practice: + +"But I have never taken yet +A strict domestic part, +And in my flurry I forget +The Five Good Rules of Etiquette +We have to know by heart." + +My sympathies were warming fast +Towards the little fellow: +He was so utterly aghast +At having found a Man at last, +And looked so scared and yellow. + +"At least," I said, "I'm glad to find +A Ghost is not a DUMB thing! +But pray sit down: you'll feel inclined +(If, like myself, you have not dined) +To take a snack of something: + +"Though, certainly, you don't appear +A thing to offer FOOD to! +And then I shall be glad to hear - +If you will say them loud and clear - +The Rules that you allude to." + +"Thanks! You shall hear them by and by. +This IS a piece of luck!" +"What may I offer you?" said I. +"Well, since you ARE so kind, I'll try +A little bit of duck. + +"ONE slice! And may I ask you for +Another drop of gravy?" +I sat and looked at him in awe, +For certainly I never saw +A thing so white and wavy. + +And still he seemed to grow more white, +More vapoury, and wavier - +Seen in the dim and flickering light, +As he proceeded to recite +His "Maxims of Behaviour." + + + +CANTO II--Hys Fyve Rules + + + +"My First--but don't suppose," he said, +"I'm setting you a riddle - +Is--if your Victim be in bed, +Don't touch the curtains at his head, +But take them in the middle, + +"And wave them slowly in and out, +While drawing them asunder; +And in a minute's time, no doubt, +He'll raise his head and look about +With eyes of wrath and wonder. + +"And here you must on no pretence +Make the first observation. +Wait for the Victim to commence: +No Ghost of any common sense +Begins a conversation. + +"If he should say 'HOW CAME YOU HERE?' +(The way that YOU began, Sir,) +In such a case your course is clear - +'ON THE BAT'S BACK, MY LITTLE DEAR!' +Is the appropriate answer. + +"If after this he says no more, +You'd best perhaps curtail your +Exertions--go and shake the door, +And then, if he begins to snore, +You'll know the thing's a failure. + +"By day, if he should be alone - +At home or on a walk - +You merely give a hollow groan, +To indicate the kind of tone +In which you mean to talk. + +"But if you find him with his friends, +The thing is rather harder. +In such a case success depends +On picking up some candle-ends, +Or butter, in the larder. + +"With this you make a kind of slide +(It answers best with suet), +On which you must contrive to glide, +And swing yourself from side to side - +One soon learns how to do it. + +"The Second tells us what is right +In ceremonious calls:- +'FIRST BURN A BLUE OR CRIMSON LIGHT' +(A thing I quite forgot to-night), +'THEN SCRATCH THE DOOR OR WALLS.'" + +I said "You'll visit HERE no more, +If you attempt the Guy. +I'll have no bonfires on MY floor - +And, as for scratching at the door, +I'd like to see you try!" + +"The Third was written to protect +The interests of the Victim, +And tells us, as I recollect, +TO TREAT HIM WITH A GRAVE RESPECT, +AND NOT TO CONTRADICT HIM." + +"That's plain," said I, "as Tare and Tret, +To any comprehension: +I only wish SOME Ghosts I've met +Would not so CONSTANTLY forget +The maxim that you mention!" + +"Perhaps," he said, "YOU first transgressed +The laws of hospitality: +All Ghosts instinctively detest +The Man that fails to treat his guest +With proper cordiality. + +"If you address a Ghost as 'Thing!' +Or strike him with a hatchet, +He is permitted by the King +To drop all FORMAL parleying - +And then you're SURE to catch it! + +"The Fourth prohibits trespassing +Where other Ghosts are quartered: +And those convicted of the thing +(Unless when pardoned by the King) +Must instantly be slaughtered. + +"That simply means 'be cut up small': +Ghosts soon unite anew. +The process scarcely hurts at all - +Not more than when YOU're what you call +'Cut up' by a Review. + +"The Fifth is one you may prefer +That I should quote entire:- +THE KING MUST BE ADDRESSED AS 'SIR.' +THIS, FROM A SIMPLE COURTIER, +IS ALL THE LAWS REQUIRE: + +"BUT, SHOULD YOU WISH TO DO THE THING +WITH OUT-AND-OUT POLITENESS, +ACCOST HIM AS 'MY GOBLIN KING! +AND ALWAYS USE, IN ANSWERING, +THE PHRASE 'YOUR ROYAL WHITENESS!' + +"I'm getting rather hoarse, I fear, +After so much reciting : +So, if you don't object, my dear, +We'll try a glass of bitter beer - +I think it looks inviting." + + + +CANTO III--Scarmoges + + + +"And did you really walk," said I, +"On such a wretched night? +I always fancied Ghosts could fly - +If not exactly in the sky, +Yet at a fairish height." + +"It's very well," said he, "for Kings +To soar above the earth: +But Phantoms often find that wings - +Like many other pleasant things - +Cost more than they are worth. + +"Spectres of course are rich, and so +Can buy them from the Elves: +But WE prefer to keep below - +They're stupid company, you know, +For any but themselves: + +"For, though they claim to be exempt +From pride, they treat a Phantom +As something quite beneath contempt - +Just as no Turkey ever dreamt +Of noticing a Bantam." + +"They seem too proud," said I, "to go +To houses such as mine. +Pray, how did they contrive to know +So quickly that 'the place was low,' +And that I 'kept bad wine'?" + +"Inspector Kobold came to you--" +The little Ghost began. +Here I broke in--"Inspector who? +Inspecting Ghosts is something new! +Explain yourself, my man!" + +"His name is Kobold," said my guest: +"One of the Spectre order: +You'll very often see him dressed +In a yellow gown, a crimson vest, +And a night-cap with a border. + +"He tried the Brocken business first, +But caught a sort of chill ; +So came to England to be nursed, +And here it took the form of THIRST, +Which he complains of still. + +"Port-wine, he says, when rich and sound, +Warms his old bones like nectar: +And as the inns, where it is found, +Are his especial hunting-ground, +We call him the INN-SPECTRE." + +I bore it--bore it like a man - +This agonizing witticism! +And nothing could be sweeter than +My temper, till the Ghost began +Some most provoking criticism. + +"Cooks need not be indulged in waste; +Yet still you'd better teach them +Dishes should have SOME SORT of taste. +Pray, why are all the cruets placed +Where nobody can reach them? + +"That man of yours will never earn +His living as a waiter! +Is that queer THING supposed to burn? +(It's far too dismal a concern +To call a Moderator). + +"The duck was tender, but the peas +Were very much too old: +And just remember, if you please, +The NEXT time you have toasted cheese, +Don't let them send it cold. + +"You'd find the bread improved, I think, +By getting better flour: +And have you anything to drink +That looks a LITTLE less like ink, +And isn't QUITE so sour?" + +Then, peering round with curious eyes, +He muttered "Goodness gracious!" +And so went on to criticise - +"Your room's an inconvenient size: +It's neither snug nor spacious. + +"That narrow window, I expect, +Serves but to let the dusk in--" +"But please," said I, "to recollect +'Twas fashioned by an architect +Who pinned his faith on Ruskin!" + +"I don't care who he was, Sir, or +On whom he pinned his faith! +Constructed by whatever law, +So poor a job I never saw, +As I'm a living Wraith! + +"What a re-markable cigar! +How much are they a dozen?" +I growled "No matter what they are! +You're getting as familiar +As if you were my cousin! + +"Now that's a thing _I_ WILL NOT STAND, +And so I tell you flat." +"Aha," said he, "we're getting grand!" +(Taking a bottle in his hand) +"I'll soon arrange for THAT!" + +And here he took a careful aim, +And gaily cried "Here goes!" +I tried to dodge it as it came, +But somehow caught it, all the same, +Exactly on my nose. + +And I remember nothing more +That I can clearly fix, +Till I was sitting on the floor, +Repeating "Two and five are four, +But FIVE AND TWO are six." + +What really passed I never learned, +Nor guessed: I only know +That, when at last my sense returned, +The lamp, neglected, dimly burned - +The fire was getting low - + +Through driving mists I seemed to see +A Thing that smirked and smiled: +And found that he was giving me +A lesson in Biography, +As if I were a child. + + + +CANTO IV--Hys Nouryture + + + +"Oh, when I was a little Ghost, +A merry time had we! +Each seated on his favourite post, +We chumped and chawed the buttered toast +They gave us for our tea." + +"That story is in print!" I cried. +"Don't say it's not, because +It's known as well as Bradshaw's Guide!" +(The Ghost uneasily replied +He hardly thought it was). + +"It's not in Nursery Rhymes? And yet +I almost think it is - +'Three little Ghosteses' were set +'On posteses,' you know, and ate +Their 'buttered toasteses.' + +"I have the book; so if you doubt it--" +I turned to search the shelf. +"Don't stir!" he cried. "We'll do without it: +I now remember all about it; +I wrote the thing myself. + +"It came out in a 'Monthly,' or +At least my agent said it did: +Some literary swell, who saw +It, thought it seemed adapted for +The Magazine he edited. + +"My father was a Brownie, Sir; +My mother was a Fairy. +The notion had occurred to her, +The children would be happier, +If they were taught to vary. + +"The notion soon became a craze; +And, when it once began, she +Brought us all out in different ways - +One was a Pixy, two were Fays, +Another was a Banshee; + +"The Fetch and Kelpie went to school +And gave a lot of trouble; +Next came a Poltergeist and Ghoul, +And then two Trolls (which broke the rule), +A Goblin, and a Double - + +"(If that's a snuff-box on the shelf," +He added with a yawn, +"I'll take a pinch)--next came an Elf, +And then a Phantom (that's myself), +And last, a Leprechaun. + +"One day, some Spectres chanced to call, +Dressed in the usual white: +I stood and watched them in the hall, +And couldn't make them out at all, +They seemed so strange a sight. + +"I wondered what on earth they were, +That looked all head and sack; +But Mother told me not to stare, +And then she twitched me by the hair, +And punched me in the back. + +"Since then I've often wished that I +Had been a Spectre born. +But what's the use?" (He heaved a sigh.) +"THEY are the ghost-nobility, +And look on US with scorn. + +"My phantom-life was soon begun: +When I was barely six, +I went out with an older one - +And just at first I thought it fun, +And learned a lot of tricks. + +"I've haunted dungeons, castles, towers - +Wherever I was sent: +I've often sat and howled for hours, +Drenched to the skin with driving showers, +Upon a battlement. + +"It's quite old-fashioned now to groan +When you begin to speak: +This is the newest thing in tone--" +And here (it chilled me to the bone) +He gave an AWFUL squeak. + +"Perhaps," he added, "to YOUR ear +That sounds an easy thing? +Try it yourself, my little dear! +It took ME something like a year, +With constant practising. + +"And when you've learned to squeak, my man, +And caught the double sob, +You're pretty much where you began: +Just try and gibber if you can! +That's something LIKE a job! + +"I'VE tried it, and can only say +I'm sure you couldn't do it, e- +ven if you practised night and day, +Unless you have a turn that way, +And natural ingenuity. + +"Shakspeare I think it is who treats +Of Ghosts, in days of old, +Who 'gibbered in the Roman streets,' +Dressed, if you recollect, in sheets - +They must have found it cold. + +"I've often spent ten pounds on stuff, +In dressing as a Double; +But, though it answers as a puff, +It never has effect enough +To make it worth the trouble. + +"Long bills soon quenched the little thirst +I had for being funny. +The setting-up is always worst: +Such heaps of things you want at first, +One must be made of money! + +"For instance, take a Haunted Tower, +With skull, cross-bones, and sheet; +Blue lights to burn (say) two an hour, +Condensing lens of extra power, +And set of chains complete: + +"What with the things you have to hire - +The fitting on the robe - +And testing all the coloured fire - +The outfit of itself would tire +The patience of a Job! + +"And then they're so fastidious, +The Haunted-House Committee: +I've often known them make a fuss +Because a Ghost was French, or Russ, +Or even from the City! + +"Some dialects are objected to - +For one, the IRISH brogue is: +And then, for all you have to do, +One pound a week they offer you, +And find yourself in Bogies! + + + +CANTO V--Byckerment + + + +"Don't they consult the 'Victims,' though?" +I said. "They should, by rights, +Give them a chance--because, you know, +The tastes of people differ so, +Especially in Sprites." + +The Phantom shook his head and smiled. +"Consult them? Not a bit! +'Twould be a job to drive one wild, +To satisfy one single child - +There'd be no end to it!" + +"Of course you can't leave CHILDREN free," +Said I, "to pick and choose: +But, in the case of men like me, +I think 'Mine Host' might fairly be +Allowed to state his views." + +He said "It really wouldn't pay - +Folk are so full of fancies. +We visit for a single day, +And whether then we go, or stay, +Depends on circumstances. + +"And, though we don't consult 'Mine Host' +Before the thing's arranged, +Still, if he often quits his post, +Or is not a well-mannered Ghost, +Then you can have him changed. + +"But if the host's a man like you - +I mean a man of sense; +And if the house is not too new--" +"Why, what has THAT," said I, "to do +With Ghost's convenience?" + +"A new house does not suit, you know - +It's such a job to trim it: +But, after twenty years or so, +The wainscotings begin to go, +So twenty is the limit." + +"To trim" was not a phrase I could +Remember having heard: +"Perhaps," I said, "you'll be so good +As tell me what is understood +Exactly by that word?" + +"It means the loosening all the doors," +The Ghost replied, and laughed: +"It means the drilling holes by scores +In all the skirting-boards and floors, +To make a thorough draught. + +"You'll sometimes find that one or two +Are all you really need +To let the wind come whistling through - +But HERE there'll be a lot to do!" +I faintly gasped "Indeed! + +"If I'd been rather later, I'll +Be bound," I added, trying +(Most unsuccessfully) to smile, +"You'd have been busy all this while, +Trimming and beautifying?" + +"Why, no," said he; "perhaps I should +Have stayed another minute - +But still no Ghost, that's any good, +Without an introduction would +Have ventured to begin it. + +"The proper thing, as you were late, +Was certainly to go: +But, with the roads in such a state, +I got the Knight-Mayor's leave to wait +For half an hour or so." + +"Who's the Knight-Mayor?" I cried. Instead +Of answering my question, +"Well, if you don't know THAT," he said, +"Either you never go to bed, +Or you've a grand digestion! + +"He goes about and sits on folk +That eat too much at night: +His duties are to pinch, and poke, +And squeeze them till they nearly choke." +(I said "It serves them right!") + +"And folk who sup on things like these--" +He muttered, "eggs and bacon - +Lobster--and duck--and toasted cheese - +If they don't get an awful squeeze, +I'm very much mistaken! + +"He is immensely fat, and so +Well suits the occupation: +In point of fact, if you must know, +We used to call him years ago, +THE MAYOR AND CORPORATION! + +"The day he was elected Mayor +I KNOW that every Sprite meant +To vote for ME, but did not dare - +He was so frantic with despair +And furious with excitement. + +"When it was over, for a whim, +He ran to tell the King; +And being the reverse of slim, +A two-mile trot was not for him +A very easy thing. + +"So, to reward him for his run +(As it was baking hot, +And he was over twenty stone), +The King proceeded, half in fun, +To knight him on the spot." + +"'Twas a great liberty to take!" +(I fired up like a rocket). +"He did it just for punning's sake: +'The man,' says Johnson, 'that would make +A pun, would pick a pocket!'" + +"A man," said he, "is not a King." +I argued for a while, +And did my best to prove the thing - +The Phantom merely listening +With a contemptuous smile. + +At last, when, breath and patience spent, +I had recourse to smoking - +"Your AIM," he said, "is excellent: +But--when you call it ARGUMENT - +Of course you're only joking?" + +Stung by his cold and snaky eye, +I roused myself at length +To say "At least I do defy +The veriest sceptic to deny +That union is strength!" + +"That's true enough," said he, "yet stay--" +I listened in all meekness - +"UNION is strength, I'm bound to say; +In fact, the thing's as clear as day; +But ONIONS are a weakness." + + + +CANTO VI--Dyscomfyture + + + +As one who strives a hill to climb, +Who never climbed before: +Who finds it, in a little time, +Grow every moment less sublime, +And votes the thing a bore: + +Yet, having once begun to try, +Dares not desert his quest, +But, climbing, ever keeps his eye +On one small hut against the sky +Wherein he hopes to rest: + +Who climbs till nerve and force are spent, +With many a puff and pant: +Who still, as rises the ascent, +In language grows more violent, +Although in breath more scant: + +Who, climbing, gains at length the place +That crowns the upward track. +And, entering with unsteady pace, +Receives a buffet in the face +That lands him on his back: + +And feels himself, like one in sleep, +Glide swiftly down again, +A helpless weight, from steep to steep, +Till, with a headlong giddy sweep, +He drops upon the plain - + +So I, that had resolved to bring +Conviction to a ghost, +And found it quite a different thing +From any human arguing, +Yet dared not quit my post + +But, keeping still the end in view +To which I hoped to come, +I strove to prove the matter true +By putting everything I knew +Into an axiom: + +Commencing every single phrase +With 'therefore' or 'because,' +I blindly reeled, a hundred ways, +About the syllogistic maze, +Unconscious where I was. + +Quoth he "That's regular clap-trap: +Don't bluster any more. +Now DO be cool and take a nap! +Such a ridiculous old chap +Was never seen before! + +"You're like a man I used to meet, +Who got one day so furious +In arguing, the simple heat +Scorched both his slippers off his feet!" +I said "THAT'S VERY CURIOUS!" + +"Well, it IS curious, I agree, +And sounds perhaps like fibs: +But still it's true as true can be - +As sure as your name's Tibbs," said he. +I said "My name's NOT Tibbs." + +"NOT Tibbs!" he cried--his tone became +A shade or two less hearty - +"Why, no," said I. "My proper name +Is Tibbets--" "Tibbets?" "Aye, the same." +"Why, then YOU'RE NOT THE PARTY!" + +With that he struck the board a blow +That shivered half the glasses. +"Why couldn't you have told me so +Three quarters of an hour ago, +You prince of all the asses? + +"To walk four miles through mud and rain, +To spend the night in smoking, +And then to find that it's in vain - +And I've to do it all again - +It's really TOO provoking! + +"Don't talk!" he cried, as I began +To mutter some excuse. +"Who can have patience with a man +That's got no more discretion than +An idiotic goose? + +"To keep me waiting here, instead +Of telling me at once +That this was not the house!" he said. +"There, that'll do--be off to bed! +Don't gape like that, you dunce!" + +"It's very fine to throw the blame +On ME in such a fashion! +Why didn't you enquire my name +The very minute that you came?" +I answered in a passion. + +"Of course it worries you a bit +To come so far on foot - +But how was _I_ to blame for it?" +"Well, well!" said he. "I must admit +That isn't badly put. + +"And certainly you've given me +The best of wine and victual - +Excuse my violence," said he, +"But accidents like this, you see, +They put one out a little. + +"'Twas MY fault after all, I find - +Shake hands, old Turnip-top!" +The name was hardly to my mind, +But, as no doubt he meant it kind, +I let the matter drop. + +"Good-night, old Turnip-top, good-night! +When I am gone, perhaps +They'll send you some inferior Sprite, +Who'll keep you in a constant fright +And spoil your soundest naps. + +"Tell him you'll stand no sort of trick; +Then, if he leers and chuckles, +You just be handy with a stick +(Mind that it's pretty hard and thick) +And rap him on the knuckles! + +"Then carelessly remark 'Old coon! +Perhaps you're not aware +That, if you don't behave, you'll soon +Be chuckling to another tune - +And so you'd best take care!' + +"That's the right way to cure a Sprite +Of such like goings-on - +But gracious me! It's getting light! +Good-night, old Turnip-top, good-night!" +A nod, and he was gone. + + + +CANTO VII--Sad Souvenaunce + + + +"What's this?" I pondered. "Have I slept? +Or can I have been drinking?" +But soon a gentler feeling crept +Upon me, and I sat and wept +An hour or so, like winking. + +"No need for Bones to hurry so!" +I sobbed. "In fact, I doubt +If it was worth his while to go - +And who is Tibbs, I'd like to know, +To make such work about? + +"If Tibbs is anything like me, +It's POSSIBLE," I said, +"He won't be over-pleased to be +Dropped in upon at half-past three, +After he's snug in bed. + +"And if Bones plagues him anyhow - +Squeaking and all the rest of it, +As he was doing here just now - +_I_ prophesy there'll be a row, +And Tibbs will have the best of it!" + +Then, as my tears could never bring +The friendly Phantom back, +It seemed to me the proper thing +To mix another glass, and sing +The following Coronach. + +'AND ART THOU GONE, BELOVED GHOST? +BEST OF FAMILIARS! +NAY THEN, FAREWELL, MY DUCKLING ROAST, +FAREWELL, FAREWELL, MY TEA AND TOAST, +MY MEERSCHAUM AND CIGARS! + +THE HUES OF LIFE ARE DULL AND GRAY, +THE SWEETS OF LIFE INSIPID, +WHEN thou, MY CHARMER, ART AWAY - +OLD BRICK, OR RATHER, LET ME SAY, +OLD PARALLELEPIPED!' + +Instead of singing Verse the Third, +I ceased--abruptly, rather: +But, after such a splendid word +I felt that it would be absurd +To try it any farther. + +So with a yawn I went my way +To seek the welcome downy, +And slept, and dreamed till break of day +Of Poltergeist and Fetch and Fay +And Leprechaun and Brownie! + +For year I've not been visited +By any kind of Sprite; +Yet still they echo in my head, +Those parting words, so kindly said, +"Old Turnip-top, good-night!" + + + +ECHOES + + + +Lady Clara Vere de Vere +Was eight years old, she said: +Every ringlet, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden thread. + +She took her little porringer: +Of me she shall not win renown: +For the baseness of its nature shall have strength to drag her +down. + +"Sisters and brothers, little Maid? +There stands the Inspector at thy door: +Like a dog, he hunts for boys who know not two and two are four." + +"Kind words are more than coronets," +She said, and wondering looked at me: +"It is the dead unhappy night, and I must hurry home to tea." + + + +A SEA DIRGE + + + +There are certain things--as, a spider, a ghost, +The income-tax, gout, an umbrella for three - +That I hate, but the thing that I hate the most +Is a thing they call the Sea. + +Pour some salt water over the floor - +Ugly I'm sure you'll allow it to be: +Suppose it extended a mile or more, +THAT'S very like the Sea. + +Beat a dog till it howls outright - +Cruel, but all very well for a spree: +Suppose that he did so day and night, +THAT would be like the Sea. + +I had a vision of nursery-maids; +Tens of thousands passed by me - +All leading children with wooden spades, +And this was by the Sea. + +Who invented those spades of wood? +Who was it cut them out of the tree? +None, I think, but an idiot could - +Or one that loved the Sea. + +It is pleasant and dreamy, no doubt, to float +With 'thoughts as boundless, and souls as free': +But, suppose you are very unwell in the boat, +How do you like the Sea? + +There is an insect that people avoid +(Whence is derived the verb 'to flee'). +Where have you been by it most annoyed? +In lodgings by the Sea. + +If you like your coffee with sand for dregs, +A decided hint of salt in your tea, +And a fishy taste in the very eggs - +By all means choose the Sea. + +And if, with these dainties to drink and eat, +You prefer not a vestige of grass or tree, +And a chronic state of wet in your feet, +Then--I recommend the Sea. + +For _I_ have friends who dwell by the coast - +Pleasant friends they are to me! +It is when I am with them I wonder most +That anyone likes the Sea. + +They take me a walk: though tired and stiff, +To climb the heights I madly agree; +And, after a tumble or so from the cliff, +They kindly suggest the Sea. + +I try the rocks, and I think it cool +That they laugh with such an excess of glee, +As I heavily slip into every pool +That skirts the cold cold Sea. + + + +Ye Carpette Knyghte + + + +I have a horse--a ryghte good horse - +Ne doe Y envye those +Who scoure ye playne yn headye course +Tyll soddayne on theyre nose +They lyghte wyth unexpected force +Yt ys--a horse of clothes. + +I have a saddel--"Say'st thou soe? +Wyth styrruppes, Knyghte, to boote?" +I sayde not that--I answere "Noe" - +Yt lacketh such, I woote: +Yt ys a mutton-saddel, loe! +Parte of ye fleecye brute. + +I have a bytte--a ryghte good bytte - +As shall bee seene yn tyme. +Ye jawe of horse yt wyll not fytte; +Yts use ys more sublyme. +Fayre Syr, how deemest thou of yt? +Yt ys--thys bytte of rhyme. + + + +HIAWATHA'S PHOTOGRAPHING + + + +[In an age of imitation, I can claim no special merit for this +slight attempt at doing what is known to be so easy. Any fairly +practised writer, with the slightest ear for rhythm, could compose, +for hours together, in the easy running metre of 'The Song of +Hiawatha.' Having, then, distinctly stated that I challenge no +attention in the following little poem to its merely verbal jingle, +I must beg the candid reader to confine his criticism to its +treatment of the subject.] + + +From his shoulder Hiawatha +Took the camera of rosewood, +Made of sliding, folding rosewood; +Neatly put it all together. +In its case it lay compactly, +Folded into nearly nothing; + +But he opened out the hinges, +Pushed and pulled the joints and hinges, +Till it looked all squares and oblongs, +Like a complicated figure +In the Second Book of Euclid. + +This he perched upon a tripod - +Crouched beneath its dusky cover - +Stretched his hand, enforcing silence - +Said, "Be motionless, I beg you!" +Mystic, awful was the process. + +All the family in order +Sat before him for their pictures: +Each in turn, as he was taken, +Volunteered his own suggestions, +His ingenious suggestions. + +First the Governor, the Father: +He suggested velvet curtains +Looped about a massy pillar; +And the corner of a table, +Of a rosewood dining-table. +He would hold a scroll of something, +Hold it firmly in his left-hand; +He would keep his right-hand buried +(Like Napoleon) in his waistcoat; +He would contemplate the distance +With a look of pensive meaning, +As of ducks that die ill tempests. + +Grand, heroic was the notion: +Yet the picture failed entirely: +Failed, because he moved a little, +Moved, because he couldn't help it. + +Next, his better half took courage; +SHE would have her picture taken. +She came dressed beyond description, +Dressed in jewels and in satin +Far too gorgeous for an empress. +Gracefully she sat down sideways, +With a simper scarcely human, +Holding in her hand a bouquet +Rather larger than a cabbage. +All the while that she was sitting, +Still the lady chattered, chattered, +Like a monkey in the forest. +"Am I sitting still?" she asked him. +"Is my face enough in profile? +Shall I hold the bouquet higher? +Will it came into the picture?" +And the picture failed completely. + +Next the Son, the Stunning-Cantab: +He suggested curves of beauty, +Curves pervading all his figure, +Which the eye might follow onward, +Till they centered in the breast-pin, +Centered in the golden breast-pin. +He had learnt it all from Ruskin +(Author of 'The Stones of Venice,' +'Seven Lamps of Architecture,' +'Modern Painters,' and some others); +And perhaps he had not fully +Understood his author's meaning; +But, whatever was the reason, +All was fruitless, as the picture +Ended in an utter failure. + +Next to him the eldest daughter: +She suggested very little, +Only asked if he would take her +With her look of 'passive beauty.' + +Her idea of passive beauty +Was a squinting of the left-eye, +Was a drooping of the right-eye, +Was a smile that went up sideways +To the corner of the nostrils. + +Hiawatha, when she asked him, +Took no notice of the question, +Looked as if he hadn't heard it; +But, when pointedly appealed to, +Smiled in his peculiar manner, +Coughed and said it 'didn't matter,' +Bit his lip and changed the subject. + +Nor in this was he mistaken, +As the picture failed completely. + +So in turn the other sisters. + +Last, the youngest son was taken: +Very rough and thick his hair was, +Very round and red his face was, +Very dusty was his jacket, +Very fidgety his manner. +And his overbearing sisters +Called him names he disapproved of: +Called him Johnny, 'Daddy's Darling,' +Called him Jacky, 'Scrubby School-boy.' +And, so awful was the picture, +In comparison the others +Seemed, to one's bewildered fancy, +To have partially succeeded. + +Finally my Hiawatha +Tumbled all the tribe together, +('Grouped' is not the right expression), +And, as happy chance would have it +Did at last obtain a picture +Where the faces all succeeded: +Each came out a perfect likeness. + +Then they joined and all abused it, +Unrestrainedly abused it, +As the worst and ugliest picture +They could possibly have dreamed of. +'Giving one such strange expressions - +Sullen, stupid, pert expressions. +Really any one would take us +(Any one that did not know us) +For the most unpleasant people!' +(Hiawatha seemed to think so, +Seemed to think it not unlikely). +All together rang their voices, +Angry, loud, discordant voices, +As of dogs that howl in concert, +As of cats that wail in chorus. + +But my Hiawatha's patience, +His politeness and his patience, +Unaccountably had vanished, +And he left that happy party. +Neither did he leave them slowly, +With the calm deliberation, +The intense deliberation +Of a photographic artist: +But he left them in a hurry, +Left them in a mighty hurry, +Stating that he would not stand it, +Stating in emphatic language +What he'd be before he'd stand it. +Hurriedly he packed his boxes: +Hurriedly the porter trundled +On a barrow all his boxes: +Hurriedly he took his ticket: +Hurriedly the train received him: +Thus departed Hiawatha. + + + +MELANCHOLETTA + + + +With saddest music all day long +She soothed her secret sorrow: +At night she sighed "I fear 'twas wrong +Such cheerful words to borrow. +Dearest, a sweeter, sadder song +I'll sing to thee to-morrow." + +I thanked her, but I could not say +That I was glad to hear it: +I left the house at break of day, +And did not venture near it +Till time, I hoped, had worn away +Her grief, for nought could cheer it! + +My dismal sister! Couldst thou know +The wretched home thou keepest! +Thy brother, drowned in daily woe, +Is thankful when thou sleepest; +For if I laugh, however low, +When thou'rt awake, thou weepest! + +I took my sister t'other day +(Excuse the slang expression) +To Sadler's Wells to see the play +In hopes the new impression +Might in her thoughts, from grave to gay +Effect some slight digression. + +I asked three gay young dogs from town +To join us in our folly, +Whose mirth, I thought, might serve to drown +My sister's melancholy: +The lively Jones, the sportive Brown, +And Robinson the jolly. + +The maid announced the meal in tones +That I myself had taught her, +Meant to allay my sister's moans +Like oil on troubled water: +I rushed to Jones, the lively Jones, +And begged him to escort her. + +Vainly he strove, with ready wit, +To joke about the weather - +To ventilate the last 'ON DIT' - +To quote the price of leather - +She groaned "Here I and Sorrow sit: +Let us lament together!" + +I urged "You're wasting time, you know: +Delay will spoil the venison." +"My heart is wasted with my woe! +There is no rest--in Venice, on +The Bridge of Sighs!" she quoted low +From Byron and from Tennyson. + +I need not tell of soup and fish +In solemn silence swallowed, +The sobs that ushered in each dish, +And its departure followed, +Nor yet my suicidal wish +To BE the cheese I hollowed. + +Some desperate attempts were made +To start a conversation; +"Madam," the sportive Brown essayed, +"Which kind of recreation, +Hunting or fishing, have you made +Your special occupation?" + +Her lips curved downwards instantly, +As if of india-rubber. +"Hounds IN FULL CRY I like," said she: +(Oh how I longed to snub her!) +"Of fish, a whale's the one for me, +IT IS SO FULL OF BLUBBER!" + +The night's performance was "King John." +"It's dull," she wept, "and so-so!" +Awhile I let her tears flow on, +She said they soothed her woe so! +At length the curtain rose upon +'Bombastes Furioso.' + +In vain we roared; in vain we tried +To rouse her into laughter: +Her pensive glances wandered wide +From orchestra to rafter - +"TIER UPON TIER!" she said, and sighed; +And silence followed after. + + + +A VALENTINE + + + +[Sent to a friend who had complained that I was glad enough to see +him when he came, but didn't seem to miss him if he stayed away.] + + +And cannot pleasures, while they last, +Be actual unless, when past, +They leave us shuddering and aghast, +With anguish smarting? +And cannot friends be firm and fast, +And yet bear parting? + +And must I then, at Friendship's call, +Calmly resign the little all +(Trifling, I grant, it is and small) +I have of gladness, +And lend my being to the thrall +Of gloom and sadness? + +And think you that I should be dumb, +And full dolorum omnium, +Excepting when YOU choose to come +And share my dinner? +At other times be sour and glum +And daily thinner? + +Must he then only live to weep, +Who'd prove his friendship true and deep +By day a lonely shadow creep, +At night-time languish, +Oft raising in his broken sleep +The moan of anguish? + +The lover, if for certain days +His fair one be denied his gaze, +Sinks not in grief and wild amaze, +But, wiser wooer, +He spends the time in writing lays, +And posts them to her. + +And if the verse flow free and fast, +Till even the poet is aghast, +A touching Valentine at last +The post shall carry, +When thirteen days are gone and past +Of February. + +Farewell, dear friend, and when we meet, +In desert waste or crowded street, +Perhaps before this week shall fleet, +Perhaps to-morrow. +I trust to find YOUR heart the seat +Of wasting sorrow. + + + +THE THREE VOICES + + + +The First Voice + + +He trilled a carol fresh and free, +He laughed aloud for very glee: +There came a breeze from off the sea: + +It passed athwart the glooming flat - +It fanned his forehead as he sat - +It lightly bore away his hat, + +All to the feet of one who stood +Like maid enchanted in a wood, +Frowning as darkly as she could. + +With huge umbrella, lank and brown, +Unerringly she pinned it down, +Right through the centre of the crown. + +Then, with an aspect cold and grim, +Regardless of its battered rim, +She took it up and gave it him. + +A while like one in dreams he stood, +Then faltered forth his gratitude +In words just short of being rude: + +For it had lost its shape and shine, +And it had cost him four-and-nine, +And he was going out to dine. + +"To dine!" she sneered in acid tone. +"To bend thy being to a bone +Clothed in a radiance not its own!" + +The tear-drop trickled to his chin: +There was a meaning in her grin +That made him feel on fire within. + +"Term it not 'radiance,'" said he: +"'Tis solid nutriment to me. +Dinner is Dinner: Tea is Tea." + +And she "Yea so? Yet wherefore cease? +Let thy scant knowledge find increase. +Say 'Men are Men, and Geese are Geese.'" + +He moaned: he knew not what to say. +The thought "That I could get away!" +Strove with the thought "But I must stay. + +"To dine!" she shrieked in dragon-wrath. +"To swallow wines all foam and froth! +To simper at a table-cloth! + +"Say, can thy noble spirit stoop +To join the gormandising troup +Who find a solace in the soup? + +"Canst thou desire or pie or puff? +Thy well-bred manners were enough, +Without such gross material stuff." + +"Yet well-bred men," he faintly said, +"Are not willing to be fed: +Nor are they well without the bread." + +Her visage scorched him ere she spoke: +"There are," she said, "a kind of folk +Who have no horror of a joke. + +"Such wretches live: they take their share +Of common earth and common air: +We come across them here and there: + +"We grant them--there is no escape - +A sort of semi-human shape +Suggestive of the man-like Ape." + +"In all such theories," said he, +"One fixed exception there must be. +That is, the Present Company." + +Baffled, she gave a wolfish bark: +He, aiming blindly in the dark, +With random shaft had pierced the mark. + +She felt that her defeat was plain, +Yet madly strove with might and main +To get the upper hand again. + +Fixing her eyes upon the beach, +As though unconscious of his speech, +She said "Each gives to more than each." + +He could not answer yea or nay: +He faltered "Gifts may pass away." +Yet knew not what he meant to say. + +"If that be so," she straight replied, +"Each heart with each doth coincide. +What boots it? For the world is wide." + +"The world is but a Thought," said he: +"The vast unfathomable sea +Is but a Notion--unto me." + +And darkly fell her answer dread +Upon his unresisting head, +Like half a hundredweight of lead. + +"The Good and Great must ever shun +That reckless and abandoned one +Who stoops to perpetrate a pun. + +"The man that smokes--that reads the Times - +That goes to Christmas Pantomimes - +Is capable of ANY crimes!" + +He felt it was his turn to speak, +And, with a shamed and crimson cheek, +Moaned "This is harder than Bezique!" + +But when she asked him "Wherefore so?" +He felt his very whiskers glow, +And frankly owned "I do not know." + +While, like broad waves of golden grain, +Or sunlit hues on cloistered pane, +His colour came and went again. + +Pitying his obvious distress, +Yet with a tinge of bitterness, +She said "The More exceeds the Less." + +"A truth of such undoubted weight," +He urged, "and so extreme in date, +It were superfluous to state." + +Roused into sudden passion, she +In tone of cold malignity: +"To others, yea: but not to thee." + +But when she saw him quail and quake, +And when he urged "For pity's sake!" +Once more in gentle tones she spake. + +"Thought in the mind doth still abide +That is by Intellect supplied, +And within that Idea doth hide: + +"And he, that yearns the truth to know, +Still further inwardly may go, +And find Idea from Notion flow: + +"And thus the chain, that sages sought, +Is to a glorious circle wrought, +For Notion hath its source in Thought." + +So passed they on with even pace: +Yet gradually one might trace +A shadow growing on his face. + + +The Second Voice + + +They walked beside the wave-worn beach; +Her tongue was very apt to teach, +And now and then he did beseech + +She would abate her dulcet tone, +Because the talk was all her own, +And he was dull as any drone. + +She urged "No cheese is made of chalk": +And ceaseless flowed her dreary talk, +Tuned to the footfall of a walk. + +Her voice was very full and rich, +And, when at length she asked him "Which?" +It mounted to its highest pitch. + +He a bewildered answer gave, +Drowned in the sullen moaning wave, +Lost in the echoes of the cave. + +He answered her he knew not what: +Like shaft from bow at random shot, +He spoke, but she regarded not. + +She waited not for his reply, +But with a downward leaden eye +Went on as if he were not by + +Sound argument and grave defence, +Strange questions raised on "Why?" and "Whence?" +And wildly tangled evidence. + +When he, with racked and whirling brain, +Feebly implored her to explain, +She simply said it all again. + +Wrenched with an agony intense, +He spake, neglecting Sound and Sense, +And careless of all consequence: + +"Mind--I believe--is Essence--Ent - +Abstract--that is--an Accident - +Which we--that is to say--I meant--" + +When, with quick breath and cheeks all flushed, +At length his speech was somewhat hushed, +She looked at him, and he was crushed. + +It needed not her calm reply: +She fixed him with a stony eye, +And he could neither fight nor fly. + +While she dissected, word by word, +His speech, half guessed at and half heard, +As might a cat a little bird. + +Then, having wholly overthrown +His views, and stripped them to the bone, +Proceeded to unfold her own. + +"Shall Man be Man? And shall he miss +Of other thoughts no thought but this, +Harmonious dews of sober bliss? + +"What boots it? Shall his fevered eye +Through towering nothingness descry +The grisly phantom hurry by? + +"And hear dumb shrieks that fill the air; +See mouths that gape, and eyes that stare +And redden in the dusky glare? + +"The meadows breathing amber light, +The darkness toppling from the height, +The feathery train of granite Night? + +"Shall he, grown gray among his peers, +Through the thick curtain of his tears +Catch glimpses of his earlier years, + +"And hear the sounds he knew of yore, +Old shufflings on the sanded floor, +Old knuckles tapping at the door? + +"Yet still before him as he flies +One pallid form shall ever rise, +And, bodying forth in glassy eyes + +"The vision of a vanished good, +Low peering through the tangled wood, +Shall freeze the current of his blood." + +Still from each fact, with skill uncouth +And savage rapture, like a tooth +She wrenched some slow reluctant truth. + +Till, like a silent water-mill, +When summer suns have dried the rill, +She reached a full stop, and was still. + +Dead calm succeeded to the fuss, +As when the loaded omnibus +Has reached the railway terminus: + +When, for the tumult of the street, +Is heard the engine's stifled beat, +The velvet tread of porters' feet. + +With glance that ever sought the ground, +She moved her lips without a sound, +And every now and then she frowned. + +He gazed upon the sleeping sea, +And joyed in its tranquillity, +And in that silence dead, but she + +To muse a little space did seem, +Then, like the echo of a dream, +Harked back upon her threadbare theme. + +Still an attentive ear he lent +But could not fathom what she meant: +She was not deep, nor eloquent. + +He marked the ripple on the sand: +The even swaying of her hand +Was all that he could understand. + +He saw in dreams a drawing-room, +Where thirteen wretches sat in gloom, +Waiting--he thought he knew for whom: + +He saw them drooping here and there, +Each feebly huddled on a chair, +In attitudes of blank despair: + +Oysters were not more mute than they, +For all their brains were pumped away, +And they had nothing more to say - + +Save one, who groaned "Three hours are gone!" +Who shrieked "We'll wait no longer, John! +Tell them to set the dinner on!" + +The vision passed: the ghosts were fled: +He saw once more that woman dread: +He heard once more the words she said. + +He left her, and he turned aside: +He sat and watched the coming tide +Across the shores so newly dried. + +He wondered at the waters clear, +The breeze that whispered in his ear, +The billows heaving far and near, + +And why he had so long preferred +To hang upon her every word: +"In truth," he said, "it was absurd." + + +The Third Voice + + +Not long this transport held its place: +Within a little moment's space +Quick tears were raining down his face + +His heart stood still, aghast with fear; +A wordless voice, nor far nor near, +He seemed to hear and not to hear. + +"Tears kindle not the doubtful spark. +If so, why not? Of this remark +The bearings are profoundly dark." + +"Her speech," he said, "hath caused this pain. +Easier I count it to explain +The jargon of the howling main, + +"Or, stretched beside some babbling brook, +To con, with inexpressive look, +An unintelligible book." + +Low spake the voice within his head, +In words imagined more than said, +Soundless as ghost's intended tread: + +"If thou art duller than before, +Why quittedst thou the voice of lore? +Why not endure, expecting more?" + +"Rather than that," he groaned aghast, +"I'd writhe in depths of cavern vast, +Some loathly vampire's rich repast." + +"'Twere hard," it answered, "themes immense +To coop within the narrow fence +That rings THY scant intelligence." + +"Not so," he urged, "nor once alone: +But there was something in her tone +That chilled me to the very bone. + +"Her style was anything but clear, +And most unpleasantly severe; +Her epithets were very queer. + +"And yet, so grand were her replies, +I could not choose but deem her wise; +I did not dare to criticise; + +"Nor did I leave her, till she went +So deep in tangled argument +That all my powers of thought were spent." + +A little whisper inly slid, +"Yet truth is truth: you know you did." +A little wink beneath the lid. + +And, sickened with excess of dread, +Prone to the dust he bent his head, +And lay like one three-quarters dead + +The whisper left him--like a breeze +Lost in the depths of leafy trees - +Left him by no means at his ease. + +Once more he weltered in despair, +With hands, through denser-matted hair, +More tightly clenched than then they were. + +When, bathed in Dawn of living red, +Majestic frowned the mountain head, +"Tell me my fault," was all he said. + +When, at high Noon, the blazing sky +Scorched in his head each haggard eye, +Then keenest rose his weary cry. + +And when at Eve the unpitying sun +Smiled grimly on the solemn fun, +"Alack," he sighed, "what HAVE I done?" + +But saddest, darkest was the sight, +When the cold grasp of leaden Night +Dashed him to earth, and held him tight. + +Tortured, unaided, and alone, +Thunders were silence to his groan, +Bagpipes sweet music to its tone: + +"What? Ever thus, in dismal round, +Shall Pain and Mystery profound +Pursue me like a sleepless hound, + +"With crimson-dashed and eager jaws, +Me, still in ignorance of the cause, +Unknowing what I broke of laws?" + +The whisper to his ear did seem +Like echoed flow of silent stream, +Or shadow of forgotten dream, + +The whisper trembling in the wind: +"Her fate with thine was intertwined," +So spake it in his inner mind: + +"Each orbed on each a baleful star: +Each proved the other's blight and bar: +Each unto each were best, most far: + +"Yea, each to each was worse than foe: +Thou, a scared dullard, gibbering low, +AND SHE, AN AVALANCHE OF WOE!" + + + +TEMA CON VARIAZIONI + + + +[Why is it that Poetry has never yet been subjected to that process +of Dilution which has proved so advantageous to her sister-art +Music? The Diluter gives us first a few notes of some well-known +Air, then a dozen bars of his own, then a few more notes of the +Air, and so on alternately: thus saving the listener, if not from +all risk of recognising the melody at all, at least from the too- +exciting transports which it might produce in a more concentrated +form. The process is termed "setting" by Composers, and any one, +that has ever experienced the emotion of being unexpectedly set +down in a heap of mortar, will recognise the truthfulness of this +happy phrase. + +For truly, just as the genuine Epicure lingers lovingly over a +morsel of supreme Venison--whose every fibre seems to murmur +"Excelsior!"--yet swallows, ere returning to the toothsome dainty, +great mouthfuls of oatmeal-porridge and winkles: and just as the +perfect Connoisseur in Claret permits himself but one delicate sip, +and then tosses off a pint or more of boarding-school beer: so +also - + + +I never loved a dear Gazelle - +NOR ANYTHING THAT COST ME MUCH: +HIGH PRICES PROFIT THOSE WHO SELL, +BUT WHY SHOULD I BE FOND OF SUCH? + +To glad me with his soft black eye +MY SON COMES TROTTING HOME FROM SCHOOL; +HE'S HAD A FIGHT BUT CAN'T TELL WHY - +HE ALWAYS WAS A LITTLE FOOL! + +But, when he came to know me well, +HE KICKED ME OUT, HER TESTY SIRE: +AND WHEN I STAINED MY HAIR, THAT BELLE +MIGHT NOTE THE CHANGE, AND THUS ADMIRE + +And love me, it was sure to dye +A MUDDY GREEN OR STARING BLUE: +WHILST ONE MIGHT TRACE, WITH HALF AN EYE, +THE STILL TRIUMPHANT CARROT THROUGH. + + + +A GAME OF FIVES + + + +Five little girls, of Five, Four, Three, Two, One: +Rolling on the hearthrug, full of tricks and fun. + +Five rosy girls, in years from Ten to Six: +Sitting down to lessons--no more time for tricks. + +Five growing girls, from Fifteen to Eleven: +Music, Drawing, Languages, and food enough for seven! + +Five winsome girls, from Twenty to Sixteen: +Each young man that calls, I say "Now tell me which you MEAN!" + +Five dashing girls, the youngest Twenty-one: +But, if nobody proposes, what is there to be done? + +Five showy girls--but Thirty is an age +When girls may be ENGAGING, but they somehow don't ENGAGE. + +Five dressy girls, of Thirty-one or more: +So gracious to the shy young men they snubbed so much before! + +* * * * + +Five passe girls--Their age? Well, never mind! +We jog along together, like the rest of human kind: +But the quondam "careless bachelor" begins to think he knows +The answer to that ancient problem "how the money goes"! + + + +POETA FIT, NON NASCITUR + + + +"How shall I be a poet? +How shall I write in rhyme? +You told me once 'the very wish +Partook of the sublime.' +Then tell me how! Don't put me off +With your 'another time'!" + +The old man smiled to see him, +To hear his sudden sally; +He liked the lad to speak his mind +Enthusiastically; +And thought "There's no hum-drum in him, +Nor any shilly-shally." + +"And would you be a poet +Before you've been to school? +Ah, well! I hardly thought you +So absolute a fool. +First learn to be spasmodic - +A very simple rule. + +"For first you write a sentence, +And then you chop it small; +Then mix the bits, and sort them out +Just as they chance to fall: +The order of the phrases makes +No difference at all. + +'Then, if you'd be impressive, +Remember what I say, +That abstract qualities begin +With capitals alway: +The True, the Good, the Beautiful - +Those are the things that pay! + +"Next, when you are describing +A shape, or sound, or tint; +Don't state the matter plainly, +But put it in a hint; +And learn to look at all things +With a sort of mental squint." + +"For instance, if I wished, Sir, +Of mutton-pies to tell, +Should I say 'dreams of fleecy flocks +Pent in a wheaten cell'?" +"Why, yes," the old man said: "that phrase +Would answer very well. + +"Then fourthly, there are epithets +That suit with any word - +As well as Harvey's Reading Sauce +With fish, or flesh, or bird - +Of these, 'wild,' 'lonely,' 'weary,' 'strange,' +Are much to be preferred." + +"And will it do, O will it do +To take them in a lump - +As 'the wild man went his weary way +To a strange and lonely pump'?" +"Nay, nay! You must not hastily +To such conclusions jump. + +"Such epithets, like pepper, +Give zest to what you write; +And, if you strew them sparely, +They whet the appetite: +But if you lay them on too thick, +You spoil the matter quite! + +"Last, as to the arrangement: +Your reader, you should show him, +Must take what information he +Can get, and look for no im- +mature disclosure of the drift +And purpose of your poem. + +"Therefore, to test his patience - +How much he can endure - +Mention no places, names, or dates, +And evermore be sure +Throughout the poem to be found +Consistently obscure. + +"First fix upon the limit +To which it shall extend: +Then fill it up with 'Padding' +(Beg some of any friend): +Your great SENSATION-STANZA +You place towards the end." + +"And what is a Sensation, +Grandfather, tell me, pray? +I think I never heard the word +So used before to-day: +Be kind enough to mention one +'Exempli gratia.'" + +And the old man, looking sadly +Across the garden-lawn, +Where here and there a dew-drop +Yet glittered in the dawn, +Said "Go to the Adelphi, +And see the 'Colleen Bawn.' + +'The word is due to Boucicault - +The theory is his, +Where Life becomes a Spasm, +And History a Whiz: +If that is not Sensation, +I don't know what it is. + +"Now try your hand, ere Fancy +Have lost its present glow--" +"And then," his grandson added, +"We'll publish it, you know: +Green cloth--gold-lettered at the back - +In duodecimo!" + +Then proudly smiled that old man +To see the eager lad +Rush madly for his pen and ink +And for his blotting-pad - +But, when he thought of PUBLISHING, +His face grew stern and sad. + + + +SIZE AND TEARS + + + +When on the sandy shore I sit, +Beside the salt sea-wave, +And fall into a weeping fit +Because I dare not shave - +A little whisper at my ear +Enquires the reason of my fear. + +I answer "If that ruffian Jones +Should recognise me here, +He'd bellow out my name in tones +Offensive to the ear: +He chaffs me so on being stout +(A thing that always puts me out)." + +Ah me! I see him on the cliff! +Farewell, farewell to hope, +If he should look this way, and if +He's got his telescope! +To whatsoever place I flee, +My odious rival follows me! + +For every night, and everywhere, +I meet him out at dinner; +And when I've found some charming fair, +And vowed to die or win her, +The wretch (he's thin and I am stout) +Is sure to come and cut me out! + +The girls (just like them!) all agree +To praise J. Jones, Esquire: +I ask them what on earth they see +About him to admire? +They cry "He is so sleek and slim, +It's quite a treat to look at him!" + +They vanish in tobacco smoke, +Those visionary maids - +I feel a sharp and sudden poke +Between the shoulder-blades - +"Why, Brown, my boy! Your growing stout!" +(I told you he would find me out!) + +"My growth is not YOUR business, Sir!" +"No more it is, my boy! +But if it's YOURS, as I infer, +Why, Brown, I give you joy! +A man, whose business prospers so, +Is just the sort of man to know! + +"It's hardly safe, though, talking here - +I'd best get out of reach: +For such a weight as yours, I fear, +Must shortly sink the beach!" - +Insult me thus because I'm stout! +I vow I'll go and call him out! + + + +ATALANTA IN CAMDEN-TOWN + + + +Ay, 'twas here, on this spot, +In that summer of yore, +Atalanta did not +Vote my presence a bore, +Nor reply to my tenderest talk "She had +heard all that nonsense before." + +She'd the brooch I had bought +And the necklace and sash on, +And her heart, as I thought, +Was alive to my passion; +And she'd done up her hair in the style that +the Empress had brought into fashion. + +I had been to the play +With my pearl of a Peri - +But, for all I could say, +She declared she was weary, +That "the place was so crowded and hot, and +she couldn't abide that Dundreary." + +Then I thought "Lucky boy! +'Tis for YOU that she whimpers!" +And I noted with joy +Those sensational simpers: +And I said "This is scrumptious!"--a +phrase I had learned from the Devonshire shrimpers. + +And I vowed "'Twill be said +I'm a fortunate fellow, +When the breakfast is spread, +When the topers are mellow, +When the foam of the bride-cake is white, +and the fierce orange-blossoms are yellow!" + +O that languishing yawn! +O those eloquent eyes! +I was drunk with the dawn +Of a splendid surmise - +I was stung by a look, I was slain by a tear, +by a tempest of sighs. + +Then I whispered "I see +The sweet secret thou keepest. +And the yearning for ME +That thou wistfully weepest! +And the question is 'License or Banns?', +though undoubtedly Banns are the cheapest." + +"Be my Hero," said I, +"And let ME be Leander!" +But I lost her reply - +Something ending with "gander" - +For the omnibus rattled so loud that no +mortal could quite understand her. + + + +THE LANG COORTIN' + + + +The ladye she stood at her lattice high, +Wi' her doggie at her feet; +Thorough the lattice she can spy +The passers in the street, + +"There's one that standeth at the door, +And tirleth at the pin: +Now speak and say, my popinjay, +If I sall let him in." + +Then up and spake the popinjay +That flew abune her head: +"Gae let him in that tirls the pin: +He cometh thee to wed." + +O when he cam' the parlour in, +A woeful man was he! +"And dinna ye ken your lover agen, +Sae well that loveth thee?" + +"And how wad I ken ye loved me, Sir, +That have been sae lang away? +And how wad I ken ye loved me, Sir? +Ye never telled me sae." + +Said--"Ladye dear," and the salt, salt tear +Cam' rinnin' doon his cheek, +"I have sent the tokens of my love +This many and many a week. + +"O didna ye get the rings, Ladye, +The rings o' the gowd sae fine? +I wot that I have sent to thee +Four score, four score and nine." + +"They cam' to me," said that fair ladye. +"Wow, they were flimsie things!" +Said--"that chain o' gowd, my doggie to howd, +It is made o' thae self-same rings." + +"And didna ye get the locks, the locks, +The locks o' my ain black hair, +Whilk I sent by post, whilk I sent by box, +Whilk I sent by the carrier?" + +"They cam' to me," said that fair ladye; +"And I prithee send nae mair!" +Said--"that cushion sae red, for my doggie's head, +It is stuffed wi' thae locks o' hair." + +"And didna ye get the letter, Ladye, +Tied wi' a silken string, +Whilk I sent to thee frae the far countrie, +A message of love to bring?" + +"It cam' to me frae the far countrie +Wi' its silken string and a'; +But it wasna prepaid," said that high-born maid, +"Sae I gar'd them tak' it awa'." + +"O ever alack that ye sent it back, +It was written sae clerkly and well! +Now the message it brought, and the boon that it sought, +I must even say it mysel'." + +Then up and spake the popinjay, +Sae wisely counselled he. +"Now say it in the proper way: +Gae doon upon thy knee!" + +The lover he turned baith red and pale, +Went doon upon his knee: +"O Ladye, hear the waesome tale +That must be told to thee! + +"For five lang years, and five lang years, +I coorted thee by looks; +By nods and winks, by smiles and tears, +As I had read in books. + +"For ten lang years, O weary hours! +I coorted thee by signs; +By sending game, by sending flowers, +By sending Valentines. + +"For five lang years, and five lang years, +I have dwelt in the far countrie, +Till that thy mind should be inclined +Mair tenderly to me. + +"Now thirty years are gane and past, +I am come frae a foreign land: +I am come to tell thee my love at last - +O Ladye, gie me thy hand!" + +The ladye she turned not pale nor red, +But she smiled a pitiful smile: +"Sic' a coortin' as yours, my man," she said +"Takes a lang and a weary while!" + +And out and laughed the popinjay, +A laugh of bitter scorn: +"A coortin' done in sic' a way, +It ought not to be borne!" + +Wi' that the doggie barked aloud, +And up and doon he ran, +And tugged and strained his chain o' gowd, +All for to bite the man. + +"O hush thee, gentle popinjay! +O hush thee, doggie dear! +There is a word I fain wad say, +It needeth he should hear!" + +Aye louder screamed that ladye fair +To drown her doggie's bark: +Ever the lover shouted mair +To make that ladye hark: + +Shrill and more shrill the popinjay +Upraised his angry squall: +I trow the doggie's voice that day +Was louder than them all! + +The serving-men and serving-maids +Sat by the kitchen fire: +They heard sic' a din the parlour within +As made them much admire. + +Out spake the boy in buttons +(I ween he wasna thin), +"Now wha will tae the parlour gae, +And stay this deadlie din?" + +And they have taen a kerchief, +Casted their kevils in, +For wha will tae the parlour gae, +And stay that deadlie din. + +When on that boy the kevil fell +To stay the fearsome noise, +"Gae in," they cried, "whate'er betide, +Thou prince of button-boys!" + +Syne, he has taen a supple cane +To swinge that dog sae fat: +The doggie yowled, the doggie howled +The louder aye for that. + +Syne, he has taen a mutton-bane - +The doggie ceased his noise, +And followed doon the kitchen stair +That prince of button-boys! + +Then sadly spake that ladye fair, +Wi' a frown upon her brow: +"O dearer to me is my sma' doggie +Than a dozen sic' as thou! + +"Nae use, nae use for sighs and tears: +Nae use at all to fret: +Sin' ye've bided sae well for thirty years, +Ye may bide a wee langer yet!" + +Sadly, sadly he crossed the floor +And tirled at the pin: +Sadly went he through the door +Where sadly he cam' in. + +"O gin I had a popinjay +To fly abune my head, +To tell me what I ought to say, +I had by this been wed. + +"O gin I find anither ladye," +He said wi' sighs and tears, +"I wot my coortin' sall not be +Anither thirty years + +"For gin I find a ladye gay, +Exactly to my taste, +I'll pop the question, aye or nay, +In twenty years at maist." + + + +FOUR RIDDLES + + + +[These consist of two Double Acrostics and two Charades. + +No. I. was written at the request of some young friends, who had +gone to a ball at an Oxford Commemoration--and also as a specimen +of what might be done by making the Double Acrostic A CONNECTED +POEM instead of what it has hitherto been, a string of disjointed +stanzas, on every conceivable subject, and about as interesting to +read straight through as a page of a Cyclopaedia. The first two +stanzas describe the two main words, and each subsequent stanza one +of the cross "lights." + +No. II. was written after seeing Miss Ellen Terry perform in the +play of "Hamlet." In this case the first stanza describes the two +main words. + +No. III. was written after seeing Miss Marion Terry perform in Mr. +Gilbert's play of "Pygmalion and Galatea." The three stanzas +respectively describe "My First," "My Second," and "My Whole."] + + +I + +There was an ancient City, stricken down +With a strange frenzy, and for many a day +They paced from morn to eve the crowded town, +And danced the night away. + +I asked the cause: the aged man grew sad: +They pointed to a building gray and tall, +And hoarsely answered "Step inside, my lad, +And then you'll see it all." + +* * * * + +Yet what are all such gaieties to me +Whose thoughts are full of indices and surds? + +x*x + 7x + 53 = 11/3 + +But something whispered "It will soon be done: +Bands cannot always play, nor ladies smile: +Endure with patience the distasteful fun +For just a little while!" + +A change came o'er my Vision--it was night: +We clove a pathway through a frantic throng: +The steeds, wild-plunging, filled us with affright: +The chariots whirled along. + +Within a marble hall a river ran - +A living tide, half muslin and half cloth: +And here one mourned a broken wreath or fan, +Yet swallowed down her wrath; + +And here one offered to a thirsty fair +(His words half-drowned amid those thunders tuneful) +Some frozen viand (there were many there), +A tooth-ache in each spoonful. + +There comes a happy pause, for human strength +Will not endure to dance without cessation; +And every one must reach the point at length +Of absolute prostration. + +At such a moment ladies learn to give, +To partners who would urge them over-much, +A flat and yet decided negative - +Photographers love such. + +There comes a welcome summons--hope revives, +And fading eyes grow bright, and pulses quicken: +Incessant pop the corks, and busy knives +Dispense the tongue and chicken. + +Flushed with new life, the crowd flows back again: +And all is tangled talk and mazy motion - +Much like a waving field of golden grain, +Or a tempestuous ocean. + +And thus they give the time, that Nature meant +For peaceful sleep and meditative snores, +To ceaseless din and mindless merriment +And waste of shoes and floors. + +And One (we name him not) that flies the flowers, +That dreads the dances, and that shuns the salads, +They doom to pass in solitude the hours, +Writing acrostic-ballads. + +How late it grows! The hour is surely past +That should have warned us with its double knock? +The twilight wanes, and morning comes at last - +"Oh, Uncle, what's o'clock?" + +The Uncle gravely nods, and wisely winks. +It MAY mean much, but how is one to know? +He opens his mouth--yet out of it, methinks, +No words of wisdom flow. + + +II + + +Empress of Art, for thee I twine +This wreath with all too slender skill. +Forgive my Muse each halting line, +And for the deed accept the will! + +* * * * + +O day of tears! Whence comes this spectre grim, +Parting, like Death's cold river, souls that love? +Is not he bound to thee, as thou to him, +By vows, unwhispered here, yet heard above? + +And still it lives, that keen and heavenward flame, +Lives in his eye, and trembles in his tone: +And these wild words of fury but proclaim +A heart that beats for thee, for thee alone! + +But all is lost: that mighty mind o'erthrown, +Like sweet bells jangled, piteous sight to see! +"Doubt that the stars are fire," so runs his moan, +"Doubt Truth herself, but not my love for thee!" + +A sadder vision yet: thine aged sire +Shaming his hoary locks with treacherous wile! +And dost thou now doubt Truth to be a liar? +And wilt thou die, that hast forgot to smile? + +Nay, get thee hence! Leave all thy winsome ways +And the faint fragrance of thy scattered flowers: +In holy silence wait the appointed days, +And weep away the leaden-footed hours. + + +III. + + +The air is bright with hues of light +And rich with laughter and with singing: +Young hearts beat high in ecstasy, +And banners wave, and bells are ringing: +But silence falls with fading day, +And there's an end to mirth and play. +Ah, well-a-day + +Rest your old bones, ye wrinkled crones! +The kettle sings, the firelight dances. +Deep be it quaffed, the magic draught +That fills the soul with golden fancies! +For Youth and Pleasance will not stay, +And ye are withered, worn, and gray. +Ah, well-a-day! + +O fair cold face! O form of grace, +For human passion madly yearning! +O weary air of dumb despair, +From marble won, to marble turning! +"Leave us not thus!" we fondly pray. +"We cannot let thee pass away!" +Ah, well-a-day! + + +IV. + + +My First is singular at best: +More plural is my Second: +My Third is far the pluralest - +So plural-plural, I protest +It scarcely can be reckoned! + +My First is followed by a bird: +My Second by believers +In magic art: my simple Third +Follows, too often, hopes absurd +And plausible deceivers. + +My First to get at wisdom tries - +A failure melancholy! +My Second men revered as wise: +My Third from heights of wisdom flies +To depths of frantic folly. + +My First is ageing day by day: +My Second's age is ended: +My Third enjoys an age, they say, +That never seems to fade away, +Through centuries extended. + +My Whole? I need a poet's pen +To paint her myriad phases: +The monarch, and the slave, of men - +A mountain-summit, and a den +Of dark and deadly mazes - + +A flashing light--a fleeting shade - +Beginning, end, and middle +Of all that human art hath made +Or wit devised! Go, seek HER aid, +If you would read my riddle! + + + +FAME'S PENNY-TRUMPET + + + +[Affectionately dedicated to all "original researchers" who pant +for "endowment."] + + +Blow, blow your trumpets till they crack, +Ye little men of little souls! +And bid them huddle at your back - +Gold-sucking leeches, shoals on shoals! + +Fill all the air with hungry wails - +"Reward us, ere we think or write! +Without your Gold mere Knowledge fails +To sate the swinish appetite!" + +And, where great Plato paced serene, +Or Newton paused with wistful eye, +Rush to the chace with hoofs unclean +And Babel-clamour of the sty + +Be yours the pay: be theirs the praise: +We will not rob them of their due, +Nor vex the ghosts of other days +By naming them along with you. + +They sought and found undying fame: +They toiled not for reward nor thanks: +Their cheeks are hot with honest shame +For you, the modern mountebanks! + +Who preach of Justice--plead with tears +That Love and Mercy should abound - +While marking with complacent ears +The moaning of some tortured hound: + +Who prate of Wisdom--nay, forbear, +Lest Wisdom turn on you in wrath, +Trampling, with heel that will not spare, +The vermin that beset her path! + +Go, throng each other's drawing-rooms, +Ye idols of a petty clique: +Strut your brief hour in borrowed plumes, +And make your penny-trumpets squeak. + +Deck your dull talk with pilfered shreds +Of learning from a nobler time, +And oil each other's little heads +With mutual Flattery's golden slime: + +And when the topmost height ye gain, +And stand in Glory's ether clear, +And grasp the prize of all your pain - +So many hundred pounds a year - + +Then let Fame's banner be unfurled! +Sing Paeans for a victory won! +Ye tapers, that would light the world, +And cast a shadow on the Sun - + +Who still shall pour His rays sublime, +One crystal flood, from East to West, +When YE have burned your little time +And feebly flickered into rest! + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, PHANTASMAGORIA AND OTHER POEMS *** + +This file should be named fntsm10.txt or fntsm10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, fntsm11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, fntsm10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we usually do not +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. +Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections, +even years after the official publication date. + +Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. + +Most people start at our Web sites at: +http://gutenberg.net or +http://promo.net/pg + +These Web sites include award-winning information about Project +Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new +eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!). + + +Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement +can get to them as follows, and just download by date. This is +also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the +indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an +announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter. + +http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext04 or +ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext04 + +Or /etext03, 02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90 + +Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want, +as it appears in our Newsletters. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. Our +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If the value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text +files per month: 1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+ +We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002 +If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total +will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks! +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users. + +Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated): + +eBooks Year Month + + 1 1971 July + 10 1991 January + 100 1994 January + 1000 1997 August + 1500 1998 October + 2000 1999 December + 2500 2000 December + 3000 2001 November + 4000 2001 October/November + 6000 2002 December* + 9000 2003 November* +10000 2004 January* + + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created +to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people +and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut, +Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois, +Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, +Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New +Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, +Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South +Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West +Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming. + +We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones +that have responded. + +As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list +will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states. +Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state. + +In answer to various questions we have received on this: + +We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally +request donations in all 50 states. If your state is not listed and +you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have, +just ask. + +While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are +not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting +donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to +donate. + +International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about +how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made +deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are +ways. + +Donations by check or money order may be sent to: + +Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +PMB 113 +1739 University Ave. +Oxford, MS 38655-4109 + +Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment +method other than by check or money order. + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by +the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN +[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154. Donations are +tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law. As fund-raising +requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be +made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +You can get up to date donation information online at: + +http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html + + +*** + +If you can't reach Project Gutenberg, +you can always email directly to: + +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> + +Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message. + +We would prefer to send you information by email. + + +**The Legal Small Print** + + +(Three Pages) + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks, +is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart +through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project"). +Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook +under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market +any commercial products without permission. + +To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may +receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims +all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation, +and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated +with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including +legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the +following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this eBook, +[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook, +or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + eBook or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word + processing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the eBook (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the + gross profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation" + the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were + legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent + periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to + let us know your plans and to work out the details. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of +public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed +in machine readable form. + +The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time, +public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses. +Money should be paid to the: +"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or +software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at: +hart@pobox.com + +[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only +when distributed free of all fees. Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by +Michael S. Hart. Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be +used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be +they hardware or software or any other related product without +express permission.] + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* + |