298. Prologue spoken at the Theatre of Dumfries
NO song nor dance I bring from yon great city,
That queens it o’er our taste-the more’s the pity:
Tho’ by the bye, abroad why will you roam?
Good sense and taste are natives here at home:
But not for panegyric I appear,
I come to wish you all a good New Year!
Old Father Time deputes me here before ye,
Not for to preach, but tell his simple story:
The sage, grave Ancient cough’d, and bade me say,
“You’re one year older this important day,”
If wiser too-he hinted some suggestion,
But ‘twould be rude, you know, to ask the question;
And with a would-be roguish leer and wink,
Said-“Sutherland, in one word, bid them Think!”
Ye sprightly youths, quite flush with hope and spirit,
Who think to storm the world by dint of merit,
To you the dotard has a deal to say,
In his sly, dry, sententious, proverb way!
He bids you mind, amid your thoughtless rattle,
That the first blow is ever half the battle;
That tho’ some by the skirt may try to snatch him,
Yet by the foreclock is the hold to catch him;
That whether doing, suffering, or forbearing,
You may do miracles by persevering.
Last, tho’ not least in love, ye youthful fair,
Angelic forms, high Heaven’s peculiar care!
To you old Bald-pate smoothes his wrinkled brow,
And humbly begs you’ll mind the important-Now!
To crown your happiness he asks your leave,
And offers, bliss to give and to receive.
For our sincere, tho’ haply weak endeavours,
With grateful pride we own your many favours;
And howsoe’er our tongues may ill reveal it,
Believe our glowing bosoms truly feel it.
Related poetry:
- 157. Prologue, spoken by Mr. Woods at Edinburgh WHEN, by a generous Public’s kind acclaim, That dearest meed is granted-honest fame; Waen here your favour is the actor’s lot, Nor even the man in private life forgot; What breast so dead to heavenly Virtue’s glow, But heaves impassion’d with the grateful throe? Poor is the task to please a barb’rous throng, It needs […]...
- 97. To John Kennedy, Dumfries House NOW, Kennedy, if foot or horse E’er bring you in by Mauchlin corse, (Lord, man, there’s lasses there wad force A hermit’s fancy; An’ down the gate in faith they’re worse, An’ mair unchancy). But as I’m sayin, please step to Dow’s, An’ taste sic gear as Johnie brews, Till some bit callan bring me […]...
- 386. The Rights of Women-Spoken by Miss Fontenelle WHILE Europe’s eye is fix’d on mighty things, The fate of Empires and the fall of Kings; While quacks of State must each produce his plan, And even children lisp the Rights of Man; Amid this mighty fuss just let me mention, The Rights of Woman merit some attention. First, in the Sexes’ intermix’d connection, […]...
- Now, O Now in This Brown Land Now, O now, in this brown land Where Love did so sweet music make We two shall wander, hand in hand, Forbearing for old friendship’ sake, Nor grieve because our love was gay Which now is ended in this way. A rogue in red and yellow dress Is knocking, knocking at the tree; And all […]...
- Prologue 1/ The taste of a poem Is in the relishing Sweet, sour or bitter Cold, lukewarm or hot The test of a poem Is in the nourishing Undying, fleeting or naught Its effect in the heart 2/ Here are the lines That got stuck in the jam On their way to your heart Possibly the […]...
- Light Is More Important Than The Lantern Light is more important than the lantern, The poem more important than the notebook, And the kiss more important than the lips. My letters to you Are greater and more important than both of us. The are the only documents Where people will discover Your beauty And my madness....
- 306. Election Ballad at close of Contest for representing the Dumfries Burghs, 1790 FINTRY, my stay in wordly strife, Friend o’ my muse, friend o’ my life, Are ye as idle’s I am? Come then, wi’ uncouth kintra fleg, O’er Pegasus I’ll fling my leg, And ye shall see me try him. But where shall I go rin a ride, That I may splatter nane beside? I wad […]...
- 440. Address spoken by Miss Fontenelle STILL anxious to secure your partial favour, And not less anxious, sure, this night, than ever, A Prologue, Epilogue, or some such matter, ‘Twould vamp my bill, said I, if nothing better; So sought a poet, roosted near the skies, Told him I came to feast my curious eyes; Said, nothing like his works was […]...
- 526. Song-The Dumfries Volunteers DOES haughty Gaul invasion threat? Then let the louns beware, Sir; There’s wooden walls upon our seas, And volunteers on shore, Sir: The Nith shall run to Corsincon, And Criffel sink in Solway, Ere we permit a Foreign Foe On British ground to rally! We’ll ne’er permit a Foreign Foe On British ground to rally! […]...
- In The Old Theatre, Fiesole I traced the Circus whose gray stones incline Where Rome and dim Etruria interjoin, Till came a child who showed an ancient coin That bore the image of a Constantine. She lightly passed; nor did she once opine How, better than all books, she had raised for me In swift perspective Europe’s history Through the […]...
- The Burning of the People's Variety Theatre, Aberdeen ‘Twas in the year of 1896, and on the 30th of September, Which many people in Aberdeen will long remember; The burning of the People’s Variety Theatre, in Bridge Place Because the fire spread like lightning at a rapid pace. The fire broke out on the stage, about eight o’clock, Which gave to the audience […]...
- Epic I have lived in important places, times When great events were decided, who owned That half a rood of rock, a no-man’s land Surrounded by our pitchfork-armed claims. I heard the Duffys shouting “Damn your soul” And old McCabe stripped to the waist, seen Step the plot defying blue cast-steel- “Here is the march along […]...
- Burning of the Exeter Theatre ‘Twas in the year of 1887, which many people will long remember, The burning of the Theatre at Exeter on the 5th of September, Alas! that ever-to-be-remembered and unlucky night, When one hundred and fifty lost their lives, a most agonising sight. The play on this night was called “Romany Rye,” And at act four, […]...
- 300. Scots Prologue for Mr. Sutherland WHAT needs this din about the town o’ Lon’on, How this new play an’ that new sang is comin? Why is outlandish stuff sae meikle courted? Does nonsense mend, like brandy, when imported? Is there nae poet, burning keen for fame, Will try to gie us sangs and plays at hame? For Comedy abroad he […]...
- Prologue to a Saga Maidens, gather not the yew, Leave the glossy myrtle sleeping; Any lad was born untrue, Never a one is fit your weeping. Pretty dears, your tumult cease; Love’s a fardel, burthening double. Clear your hearts, and have you peace- Gangway, girls: I’ll show you trouble....
- The Princess (prologue) Sir Walter Vivian all a summer’s day Gave his broad lawns until the set of sun Up to the people: thither flocked at noon His tenants, wife and child, and thither half The neighbouring borough with their Institute Of which he was the patron. I was there From college, visiting the son, the son A […]...
- Gus: The Theatre Cat Gus is the Cat at the Theatre Door. His name, as I ought to have told you before, Is really Asparagus. That’s such a fuss To pronounce, that we usually call him just Gus. His coat’s very shabby, he’s thin as a rake, And he suffers from palsy that makes his paw shake. Yet he […]...
- He Thinks Of Those Who Have Spoken Evil Of His Beloved Half close your eyelids, loosen your hair, And dream about the great and their pride; They have spoken against you everywhere, But weigh this song with the great and their pride; I made it out of a mouthful of air, Their children’s children shall say they have lied....
- At The Abbey Theatre (Imitated from Ronsard) Dear Craoibhin Aoibhin, look into our case. When we are high and airy hundreds say That if we hold that flight they’ll leave the place, While those same hundreds mock another day Because we have made our art of common things, So bitterly, you’d dream they longed to look All their lives […]...
- 490. Song-The charming month of May IT was the charming month of May, When all the flow’rs were fresh and gay. One morning, by the break of day, The youthful, charming Chloe- From peaceful slumber she arose, Girt on her mantle and her hose, And o’er the flow’ry mead she goes- The youthful, charming Chloe. Chorus.-Lovely was she by the dawn, […]...
- The General Prologue WHEN that Aprilis, with his showers swoot*, *sweet The drought of March hath pierced to the root, And bathed every vein in such licour, Of which virtue engender’d is the flower; When Zephyrus eke with his swoote breath Inspired hath in every holt* and heath *grove, forest The tender croppes* and the younge sun *twigs, […]...
- Sonnet XXXV: Some, Misbelieving To Miracle Some, misbelieving and profane in love, When I do speak of miracles by thee, May say, that thou art flattered by me, Who only write my skill in verse to prove. See miracles, ye unbelieving, see A dumb-born Muse made t’express the mind, A cripple hand to write, yet lame by kind, One […]...
- Author's Prologue This day winding down now At God speeded summer’s end In the torrent salmon sun, In my seashaken house On a breakneck of rocks Tangled with chirrup and fruit, Froth, flute, fin, and quill At a wood’s dancing hoof, By scummed, starfish sands With their fishwife cross Gulls, pipers, cockles, and snails, Out there, crow […]...
- Prologue All in the golden afternoon Full leisurely we glide; For both our oars, with little skill, By little arms are plied, While little hands make vain pretence Our wanderings to guide. Ah, cruel Three! In such an hour Beneath such dreamy weather, To beg a tale of breath too weak To stir the tiniest feather&xclm. […]...
- Prologue 1 To sing of Wars, of Captains, and of Kings, 2 Of Cities founded, Common-wealths begun, 3 For my mean Pen are too superior things; 4 Or how they all, or each their dates have run, 5 Let Poets and Historians set these forth. 6 My obscure lines shall not so dim their worth. 7 […]...
- The Human Seasons Four Seasons fill the measure of the year; There are four seasons in the mind of man: He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear Takes in all beauty with an easy span: He has his Summer, when luxuriously Spring’s honied cud of youthful thought he loves To ruminate, and by such dreaming high Is […]...
- New Year's Morning Only a night from old to new! Only a night, and so much wrought! The Old Year’s heart all weary grew, But said: The New Year rest has brought.” The Old Year’s hopes its heart laid down, As in a grave; but trusting, said: “The blossoms of the New Year’s crown Bloom from the ashes […]...
- Prologue to Rodin in Rime To Kathleen- Nor I can give, nor you can take; endures The simple truth of me that is yours. Is not the music mingled with the form When all the heavens break in blind black storm? Are we not veiled as Gods, and cruel as they, Smiting our brilliance on the shuddering clay? Silence and […]...
- Water I was born in a drouth year. That summer My mother waited in the house, enclosed In the sun and the dry ceaseless wind, For the men to come back in the evenings, Bringing water from a distant spring. Veins of leaves ran dry, roots shrank. And all my life I have dreaded the return […]...
- Miracles WHY! who makes much of a miracle? As to me, I know of nothing else but miracles, Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan, Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky, Or wade with naked feet along the beach, just in the edge of the water, Or stand under trees […]...
- Prologue to "Rhymes to be Traded for Bread" EVEN the shrewd and bitter, Gnarled by the old world’s greed, Cherished the stranger softly Seeing his utter need. Shelter and patient hearing, These were their gifts to him, To the minstrel chanting, begging, As the sunset-fire grew dim. The rich said “you are welcome.” Yea, even the rich were good. How strange that in […]...
- Hymn 51 Persevering grace. Jude 1:24,25. To God the only wise, Our Savior and our King, Let all the saints below the skies Their humble praises bring. ‘Tis his almighty love, His counsel, and’ his care, Preserves us safe from sin and death, And every hurtful snare. He will present our souls, Unblemished and complete, Before the […]...
- His Bill is clasped his Eye forsook His Bill is clasped his Eye forsook His Feathers wilted low The Claws that clung, like lifeless Gloves Indifferent hanging now The Joy that in his happy Throat Was waiting to be poured Gored through and through with Death, to be Assassin of a Bird Resembles to my outraged mind The firing in Heaven, On […]...
- 100. Inscribed on a Work of Hannah More's THOU flatt’ring mark of friendship kind, Still may thy pages call to mind The dear, the beauteous donor; Tho’ sweetly female ev’ry part, Yet such a head, and more the heart Does both the sexes honour: She show’d her taste refin’d and just, When she selected thee; Yet deviating, own I must, For sae approving […]...
- To A Poor Old Woman munching a plum on The street a paper bag Of them in her hand They taste good to her They taste good To her. They taste Good to her You can see it by The way she gives herself To the one half Sucked out in her hand Comforted A solace of ripe plums Seeming […]...
- A Ritual To Read To Each Other If you don’t know the kind of person I am And I don’t know the kind of person you are A pattern that others made may prevail in the world And following the wrong god home we may miss our star. For there is many a small betrayal in the mind, A shrug that lets […]...
- Speaking To You (From Rock Bottom) Speaking to you This hour These days when I have lost the feather of poetry And the rains Of separation Surround us tock Tock like Go tablets Everyone has learned To move carefully ‘Dancing’ ‘laughing’ ‘bad taste’ Is a memory A tableau behind trees of law In the midst of love for you My wife’s […]...
- Hymn 104 A state of nature and of grace. 1 Cor. 6:10,11. Not the malicious or profane, The wanton or the proud, Nor thieves, nor sland’rers, shall obtain Tue kingdom of our God. Surprising grace! and such were we By nature and by sin, Heirs of immortal misery, Unholy and unclean. But we are washed in Jesus’ […]...
- Provisions What should we have taken With us? We never could decide On that; or what to wear, Or at what time of Year we should make the journey So here we are in thin Raincoats and rubber boots On the disastrous ice, the wind rising Nothing in our pockets But a pencil stub, two oranges […]...
- Poem (Faithful to your commands, o consciousness) Poem Faithful to your commands, o consciousness, o Beating wings, I studied The roses and the muses of reality, The deceptions and the deceptive elation of the redness of the growing morning, And all the greened and thomed variety of the vines of error, which begin by promising Everything and more than everything, and then […]...