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    The Complete Poems

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      ‘Crave or be heard; for plenty shall bring forth,

      ‘Cities shall sing, and vales in rich array

      ‘Shall laugh, whose fruitful laps bend down with fulness.

      ‘Our sons shall rise from thrones in joy,

      50 ‘Each one buckling on his armour; Morning

      ‘Shall be prevented by their swords gleaming,

      ‘And Evening hear their song of victory!

      ‘Their towers shall be built upon the rocks,

      ‘Their daughters shall sing, surrounded with shining spears!

      ‘Liberty shall stand upon the cliffs of Albion,

      ‘Casting her blue eyes over the green ocean;

      ‘Or, tow’ring, stand upon the roaring waves,

      ‘Stretching her mighty spear o’er distant lands;

      ‘While, with her eagle wings, she covereth

      ‘Fair Albion’s shore, and all her families’

      Dramatic Fragments

      PROLOGUE, INTENDED FOR A DRAMATIC PIECE OF KING EDWARD THE FOURTH

      O For a voice like thunder, and a tongue

      To drown the throat of war! – When the senses

      Are shaken, and the soul is driven to madness,

      Who can stand? When the souls of the oppressed

      Fight in the troubled air that rages, who can stand?

      When the whirlwind of fury comes from the

      Throne of God, when the frowns of his countenance

      Drive the nations together, who can stand?

      When Sin claps his broad wings over the battle,

      10 And sails rejoicing in the flood of Death;

      When souls are torn to everlasting fire,

      And fiends of Hell rejoice upon the slain,

      O who can stand? O who hath caused this?

      O who can answer at the throne of God?

      The Kings and Nobles of the Land have done it!

      Hear it not, Heaven, thy Ministers have done it!

      PROLOGUE TO KING JOHN

      Justice hath heaved a sword to plunge in Albion’s breast; for Albion’s sins are crimson dy’d, and the red scourge follows her desolate sons! Then Patriot rose; full oft did Patriot rise, when Tyranny hath stain’d fair Albion’s breast with her own children’s gore. Round his majestic feet deep thunders roll; each heart does tremble, and each knee grows slack. The stars of heaven tremble: the roaring voice of war, the trumpet, calls to battle! Brother in brother’s blood must bathe, rivers of death! O land, most hapless!

      10 O beauteous island, how forsaken! Weep from thy

      silver fountains; weep from thy gentle rivers! The angel of the island weeps! Thy widowed virgins weep beneath thy shades! Thy aged fathers gird themselves for war! The sucking infant lives to die in battle; the weeping mother feeds him for the slaughter! The husbandman doth leave his bending harvest! Blood cries afar! The land doth sow itself! The glittering youth of courts must gleam in arms! The aged senators their ancient swords assume! The trembling sinews of old age must work the work of death

      20 against their progeny; for Tyranny hath stretch’d his

      purple arm, and ‘blood,’ he cries; ‘the chariots and the horses, the noise of shout, and dreadful thunder of the battle heard afar!’ – Beware, O Proud! thou shalt be humbled; thy cruel brow, thine iron heart is smitten, though lingering Fate is slow. O yet may Albion smile again, and stretch her peaceful arms, and raise her golden head, exultingly! Her citizens shall throng about her gates, her mariners shall sing upon the sea, and myriads shall to her temples crowd! Her sons shall joy as

      30 in the morning! Her daughters sing as to the rising year!

      A WAR SONG TO ENGLISHMEN

      Prepare, prepare, the iron helm of war,

      Bring forth the lots, cast in the spacious orb;

      Th’ Angel of Fate turns them with mighty hands,

      And casts them out upon the darken’d earth!

      Prepare, prepare.

      Prepare your hearts for Death’s cold hand! prepare

      Your souls for flight, your bodies for the earth!

      Prepare your arms for glorious victory!

      Prepare your eyes to meet a holy God!

      10 Prepare, prepare.

      Whose fatal scroll is that? Methinks ’tis mine!

      Why sinks my heart, why faultereth my tongue?

      Had I three lives, I’d die in such a cause,

      And rise, with ghosts, over the well-fought field.

      Prepare, prepare.

      The arrows of Almighty God are drawn!

      Angels of Death stand in the low’ring heavens!

      Thousands of souls must seek the realms of light,

      And walk together on the clouds of heaven!

      20 Prepare, prepare.

      Soldiers, prepare! Our cause is Heaven’s cause;

      Soldiers, prepare! Be worthy of our cause:

      Prepare to meet our fathers in the sky:

      Prepare, O troops, that are to fall to-day!

      Prepare, prepare.

      Alfred shall smile, and make his harp rejoice;

      The Norman William, and the learned Clerk,

      And Lion Heart, and black-brow’d Edward, with

      His loyal queen shall rise, and welcome us!

      30 Prepare, prepare.

      Poems Written in a Copy of Poetical Sketches

      SONG 1ST BY A SHEPHERD

      Welcome stranger to this place,

      Where joy doth sit on every bough,

      Paleness flies from every face,

      We reap not what we do not sow.

      Innocence doth like a Rose,

      Bloom on every Maidens cheek;

      Honor twines around her brows,

      The jewel Health adorns her neck.

      SONG 2ND BY A YOUNG SHEPHERD

      When the trees do laugh with our merry wit,

      And the green hill laughs with the noise of it,

      When the meadow laughs with lively green,

      And the grasshopper laughs in the merry scene;

      When the greenwood laughs with the voice of joy,

      And the dimpling stream runs laughing by,

      When Edessa, and Lyca, and Emilie,

      With their sweet round mouths sing Ha, Ha, He.

      When the painted birds laugh in the shade

      10 Where our table with cherries and nuts is spread,

      Come live and be merry and join with me,

      To sing the sweet chorus of Ha, Ha, He.

      SONG 3RD BY AN OLD SHEPHERD

      When silver snow decks Sylvio’s cloaths

      And jewel hangs at shepherd’s nose,

      We can abide life’s pelting storm

      That makes our limbs quake, if our hearts be warm.

      Whilst Virtue is our walking staff,

      And Truth a lantern to our path;

      We can abide life’s pelting storm

      That makes our limbs quake, if our hearts be warm.

      Blow boisterous Wind, stern Winter frown,

      10 Innocence is a Winter’s gown;

      So clad, we’ll abide life’s pelting storm

      That makes our limbs quake, if our hearts be warm.

      SONGS FROM ‘AN ISLAND IN THE MOON’

      From CHAP 3d

      In the Moon as Phebus stood over his oriental Gardening O ay come Ill sing you a song said the Cynic, the trumpeter shit in his hat said the Epicurean & clapt it on his head said the Pythagorean

      Ill begin again said the Cynic

      Little Phebus came strutting in

      With his fat belly & his round chin

      What is it you would please to have

      Ho Ho

      10 I wont let it go at only so & so

      *

      Then the Cynic sung

      Honour & Genius is all I ask

      And I ask the Gods no more

      Here Aradobo suckd his under lip

      From CHAP 6

      Ah said Sipsop, I only wish Jack [Hunter] Tearguts had had the cutting of Plutarch he understands anatomy better than any of the Ancients hell plunge his knife up to the hilt in
    a single drive and thrust his fist in, and all in the space of a Quarter of an hour. he does not mind their crying – tho they cry ever so hell Swear at them & keep them down with his fist & tell them that hell scrape their bones if they done lay still & be quiet – What the devil should the people in the hospital that have it done for

      10 nothing, make such a piece of work for

      Hang that said Suction let us have a Song

      Then [Sipsop sang] the Cynic sang

      When old corruption first begun

      Adornd in yellow vest

      He committed on flesh a whoredom

      O what a wicked beast

      2

      From them a callow babe did spring

      And old corruption smild

      To think his race should never end

      20 For now he had a child

      3

      He calld him Surgery & fed

      The babe with his own milk

      For flesh & he could neer agree

      She would not let him suck

      4

      And this he always kept in mind

      And formd a crooked knife

      And ran about with bloody hands

      To seek his mothers life

      5

      And as he ran to seek his mother

      30 He met with a dead woman

      He fell in love & married her

      A deed which is not common

      6

      She soon grew pregnant & brought forth

      Scurvy & spotted fever

      The father grind & skipt about

      And said I’m made for ever

      7

      For now I have procurd these imps

      Ill try experiments

      With that he tied poor scurvy down

      40 & stopt up all its vents

      8

      And when the child began to swell

      He shouted out aloud

      Ive found the dropsy out & soon

      Shall do the world more good

      9

      He took up fever by the neck

      And cut out all its spots

      And thro the holes which he had made

      He first discovered guts

      From CHAP 8

      Hear then the pride & knowledge of a Sailor

      His sprit sail fore sail main sail & his mizen

      A poor frail man god wot I know none frailer

      I know no greater sinner than John Taylor

      *

      Phebe drest like beauties Queen

      Jellicoe in faint peagreen

      Sitting all beneath a grot

      Where the little [lambs do] lambkins trot

      Maidens dancing loves a sporting

      10 All the country folks a courting

      Susan Johnny Bet & Joe

      Lightly tripping on a row

      Happy people who can be

      In happiness compard with ye

      The Pilgrim with his crook & hat

      Sees your happiness compleat

      CHAP 9

      I say this evening [we’d] we’ll all get drunk. I say dash, an Anthem an Anthem, said Suction

      Lo the Bat with Leathern wing

      Winking & blinking

      Winking & blinking

      Winking & blinking

      Like Doctor Johnson

      Quid–––O ho Said Doctor Johnson

      To Scipio Africanus

      10 If you dont own me a Philosopher

      Ill kick your Roman Anus

      Suction – A ha To Doctor Johnson

      Said Scipio Africanus

      Lift up my Roman Petticoatt

      And kiss my Roman Anus

      And the Cellar goes down with a Step (Grand Chorus

      Ho Ho Ho Ho Ho Ho Ho Hooooo my poooooor siiides I I should die if I was to live here said Scopprell Ho Ho Ho Ho Ho

      1st Vo

      Want Matches

      20 2d Vo

      Yes Yes Yes

      1st Vo

      Want Matches

      2d Vo

      No––––––––––

      1st Vo

      Want Matches

      2d Vo

      Yes Yes Yes

      1st Vo

      Want Matches

      2d Vo

      No––––––––––

      Here was Great confusion & disorder Aradobo said that the boys in the street sing something very pritty & funny [about London O no] about Matches Then Mrs Nannicantipot sung

      30 I cry my matches as far as Guild hall

      God bless the duke & his aldermen all

      Then sung Scopprell

      I ask the Gods no more

      no more no more

      Then Said Suction come Mr Lawgiver your song and the Lawgiver sung

      As I walkd forth one may morning

      To see the fields so pleasant & so gay

      O there did I spy a young maiden sweet

      40 Among the Violets that smell so sweet

      Smell so sweet

      Smell so sweet

      Among the Violets that smell so sweet

      Hang your Violets heres your Rum & water [sweeter] O ay said Tilly Lally. Joe Bradley & I was going along one day in the Sugar house Joe Bradley saw for he had but one eye saw a treacle Jar So he goes of his blind side & dips his hand up to the shoulder in treacle. here lick lick lick said he Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha For he had but one eye

      50 Ha Ha Ha Ho then sung Scopprell

      And I ask the Gods no more

      no more no more

      no more no more

      Miss Gittipin said he you sing like a harpsichord. let your bounty descend to our fair ears and favour us with a fine song

      then she sung

      This frog he would a wooing ride

      Kitty alone Kitty alone

      60 This frog he would a wooing ride

      Kitty alone & I

      [This frog] Sing cock I cary Kitty alone

      Kitty alone Kitty alone

      Cock I cary Kitty alone

      Kitty alone & I

      Charming truly elegant said Scopprell

      And I ask the gods no more

      Hang your Serious Songs, said Sipsop & he sung as follows

      Fa ra so bo ro

      70 Fa ra bo ra

      Sa ba ra ra ba rare roro

      Sa ra ra ra bo ro ro ro

      Radara

      Sarapodo no flo ro

      Hang Italian songs lets have English said Quid [Sing a Mathematical Song Obtuse Angle then he sung] English Genius for ever here I go

      Hail Matrimony made of Love

      80 To thy wide gates how great a drove

      On purpose to be yok’d do come

      Widows & maids & Youths also

      That lightly trip on beauty’s toe

      Or sit on beauty’s bum

      Hail fingerfooted lovely Creatures

      The females of our human Natures

      Formed to suckle all Mankind

      Tis you that come in time of

      need Without you we shoud never Breed

      90 Or any Comfort find

      For if a Damsel’s blind or lame

      Or Nature’s hand has crooked her frame

      Or if she’s deaf or is wall eyed

      Yet if her heart is well inclined

      Some tender lover she shall find

      That panteth for a Bride

      The universal Poultice this

      To cure whatever is amiss

      In damsel or in Widow gay

      100 It makes them smile it makes them skip

      Like Birds just cured of the pip

      They chirp & hop away

      Then come ye Maidens come ye Swains

      Come & be eased of all your pains

      In Matrimony’s Golden cage –

      I [None of] Go & be hanged said Scopprel how can you have the face to make game of Matrimony [What you skipping flea how dare ye? Ill dash you through your chair says the Cynic This Quid (cries out Miss Gittipin) always

      110 spoils good company in this manner & its a shame]

      Then Quid calld upon Obtuse Angle for a Song & he wiping his face & looking on
    the corner of the cieling Sang

      To be or not to be

      Of great capacity

      Like Sir Isaac Newton

      Or Locke or Doctor South

      Or Sherlock upon death

      Id rather be Sutton

      For he did build a house

      120 For aged men & youth

      With walls of brick & stone

      He furnished it within

      With whatever he could win

      And all his own

      He drew out of the Stocks

      His money in a box

      And sent his servant

      To Green the Bricklayer

      And to the Carpenter

      130 He was so fervent

      The chimneys were three score

      The windows many more

      And for convenience

      He sinks & gutters made

      And all the way he pavd

      To hinder pestilence

      Was not this a good man

      Whose life was but a span

      Whose name was Sutton

      140 As Locke or Doctor South

      Or Sherlock upon Death

      Or Sir Isaac Newton

      The Lawgiver was very attentive & begd to have it sung over again & again till the company were tired & insisted on the Lawgiver singing a song himself which he readily complied with

      This city & this country has brought forth many mayors

      To sit in state & give forth laws out of their old oak

      chairs

      With face as brown as any nut with drinking of strong ale

      150 Good English hospitality O then it did not fail

      With scarlet gowns & broad gold lace would make a

      yeoman sweat

      With stockings rolld above their knees & shoes as black

      as jet

      With eating beef & drinking beer O they were stout and

      hale

      Good English hospitality O then it did not fail

      Thus sitting at the table wide the Mayor & Aldermen

      Were fit to give law to the city each eat as much as ten

      The hungry poor enterd the hall to eat good beef & ale

      Good English hospitality O then it did not fail

      Here they gave a shout & the company broke up

      From CHAP 11

      Upon a holy thursday their innocent faces clean

      The children walking two & two in grey & blue & green

      Grey headed beadles walkd before with wands as white

      as snow

      Till into the high dome of Pauls they like thames water

      flow

      O what a multitude they seemd, these flowers of

     
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