Here's a poem written by
Thomas Hood, a British Poet and Humorist, excerpted from '
The Humorous Poetry of the English Language' by J.
Parton (Mason Brothers, 1857).
This poem is strikingly similar to John Godfrey Saxe's '
Briefless Barrister' (
previously posted here, also excerpted from the same book) - lots of puns, lots of word-play.
Note: The humor is a bit darker, and I can't tell if this was meant to be a farce of a farce, given the full title of the poem is '
Faithless Nelly Gray: A Pathetic Ballad'.
Without further ado:
Faithless Nelly Gray: A Pathetic Ballad
By Thomas Hood (1798-1845)
Ben Battle was a soldier bold,
And used to war's alarms;
But a cannon-ball took off his legs,
So he laid down his arms.
Now, as they bore him off the field,
Said he, "Let others shoot;
For here I leave my second leg,
And the Forty-second Foot!"
The army-surgeons made him limbs:
Said he, "They're only pegs;
But there's as wooden members quite
As represent my legs!"
Now, Ben he loved a pretty maid,
Her name was Nelly Gray;
So he went up to pay his devours,
When he devoured his pay!
But when he called on Nelly Gray,
She made him quite a scoff;
And when she saw his wooden legs,
Began to take them off!
"O, Nelly Gray! O, Nelly Gray!
Is this your love so warm?
The love that loves a scarlet coat
Should be more uniform!"
Said she, "I loved a soldier once
For he was blithe and brave;
But I will never have a man
With both legs in the grave!
"Before you had those timber toes,
Your love I did allow;
But then, you know, you stand upon
Another footing now!"
"O, Nelly Gray! O, Nelly Gray!
For all your jeering speeches,
At duty's call I left my legs
In Badajos's breaches !"
"Why then," said she, "you've lost the feet
Of legs in war's alarms,
And now you cannot wear your shoes
Upon your feats of arms!"
"O, false and fickle Nelly Gray!
I know why you refuse: --
Though I've no feet -- some other man
Is standing in my shoes!
"I wish I ne'er had seen your face;
But, now, a long farewell!
For you will be my death; -- alas
You will not be my Nell!"
Now, when he went from Nelly Gray,
His heart so heavy got,
And life was such a burden grown,
It made him take a knot!
So round his melancholy neck
A rope he did entwine,
And, for his second time in life,
Enlisted in the Line.
One end he tied around a beam,
And then removed his pegs,
And, as his legs were off -- of course
He soon was off his legs!
And there he hung, till he was dead
As any nail in town--
For, though distress had cut him up,
It could not cut him down!
A dozen men sat on his corpse,
To find out why he died--
And they buried Ben in four cross-roads
With a stake in his inside!
[I have to admit one thing though: I did not understand the ending of this poem. If you have an interpretation of the last two lines, please share your insight via a comment for the benefit of the rest of us].
My favorite pun in this poem was 'Death...Nell' - how about yours?
Here is the biography of Thomas Hood from the same book. (Presumably, since this was written closer to his lifetime than, say, Wikipedia, we may consider it more authentic):
HOOD, THOMAS - Author of the "Song of the Shirt", which Punch had the honor of first publishing. Born in 1798; died in 1845. Hood was the son of a London BookSeller, and began life as a clerk. He became afterward an engraver, bur was drawn gradually into the literary profession, which he excercised far more to the advantage of his readers than his own. His later years were saddened by ill-health and poverty. Some of his comic verses seem forced and contrived, as though done for needed wages. Hood was one of the literary men who should have made of literature a staff, not a crutch. It was in him to produce, like Lamb, a few very admirable things, the execution of which should have been the pleasant occupation of his leisure, not the toil by which he gained his bread.
Thomas Hood
Oh, and happy poetry friday, hosted this week at the Teacher Dance blog.
