|Of the Restoration Era, in two Aspects
So it was, that
Lord Dorset was travelling
with a small party including myself,
Mr. Welch, and with several other
Poets of no notice worth to name,
and along with us was the Vicar B - - -.
We were then passing through
that dismal place, Parson Drove,
where was Encountered,
a surely halfe-witted Youth
driving a sheep Flock in our way.
And, by the Commotions of the sheep,
entailing the same within our Party,
we were delayed for some minutes.
In my Lordship's buttering Manner,
which, bye the bye, is not always
of Good Intent,
he secretely induced the Bucolic,
by coin and by Authority. I saw
a whispering of seeming-exact
Instruction wedg'd tight
into a herder's ear.
Some moments later,
the Innocent, bringing forth
a single Lambe, he
did approach the Vicar B - - -,
and he did make
a very Pretty Scene
for near all who witnessed.
After the Ruse—was
out, we laughed—all
except for the Vicar, he was the Butt—
for the lad had applied to him
with this profess'd Wish—
to become married to the Lambe.
And so it was, say I,
by Mr. Welch
"The Shepherd's Best"
He shewed but one of his white Flock,
More pure, its wool, than the Parson's Frock
Of black, who blush'd Fiery red
—For this is what the Shepherd said—
"Fain I am to marry her.
And you, Sir—do you
And so it is a gentle Joke
created by our brightest
best, our Wag, The Lord of Dorset.
It has since occurred to us,
there is no reason countermanding
to blend mutual in harmony
poets of like-empathy.
We, with planned temporal strides,
collaborate, and so-traverse across,
the pages of our times,
2 Jul 06
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whoa I am appalled and astounde simoultaniously this is indie film set to paper I love it however a slightly and I mean SLIghtly more modern text would be nice....kay now read my new one
made me smile, not the joke but the actual scene, it would have been difficult to make it work in any other style of language
Lord D--(eepthroa)--t was travelling
with a small party including myself,
Mr. W--(ickam)--, and with several other
Poets of no notice worth to name;
and along with us was the Vicar --(Dave)--.
These are the names that popped into me 'ed as I read.
What a lovely ceremony it must have been.
Hi povertea, I love your imagination.
Of course, this scene is of my imagination.
The Lord was a real one, Lord Dorset, of Pepys' time.
Dorset was a libertine, rake and general funloving intellectual.
He fostered as servant to become one of the greatest poets and playwrights of the day:
Robert Gould (amazing story, his).
I take Lord Dorset's character, and penchant for literary types, and put =myself=, veiled as "Mr. W----", into this poem-lined prose piece. My surname is Welch, you see. It is unclear, though whether the "author" is Mr. Welch, or a non-poet who was with that group.
What was Dorset like? Well, here is Ben Johnsons report from his book,
"Lives of the Poets"
I have relined the verbatim text as poetry:
[Lord Dorset] of Sackville,
who was then Lord Buckhurst
with Sir Charles Sedley
and Sir Thomas
got drunk at the Cock
in Bow Street
by Covent Garden
and going into the balcony
to the populace
At last as they
stood forth naked
and harangued the populace
in such profane language that
the publick indignation was awakened;
the crowd attempted to force the door
and being repulsed
the performers with stones
and broke the windows of the house.
For this misdemeanour
they were indicted
and Sedley was fined five
hundred pounds; what was
the sentence of the others
is not known.
And Samuel Pepys, the famed diarist wrote in June, 1663 (again, relined by myself as poetry):
Pepys related that...
"Mr. Batten [was]
telling us of a late triall of Sir
Charles Sydly the other day
before my Lord Chief Justice Foster and the whole bench
for his debauchery a little while since
at Oxford Kate’s
coming in open day into the Balcone
and showed his nakedness
and abusing of scripture
and as it were
from thence preaching
a mountebank sermon
from the pulpit saying that
there he had to sell
such a powder as should
make all the [women] in town
run after him
1000 people standing underneath to see and hear him
and that being done
he took a glass of wine
and then drank it off
and then took another
and drank the King’s health."
I think now to -combine- the two works in one.
Now the resultant poem will be seen here too.
What a marvelous story.
You should pen another. Several more. A collection. A Canterbury Tales, with drunken nudity and the marriage of people to farm animals.
Gould was a famous naturalist and good friend of C. Darwin or maybe i am thinking about another Gould. The poem is beyond critque, choice of words is excellent, the scenario is vivid and believable, a real stunner of a poem.
The footnotes seem a tad superflous though, just let the poem rise or fall on its own merits.
Quite good, quite worth the read, as well as another read later this day and perhaps a nonce.
sorry wrong gould
thanks for early comments. today (Sept. 6,'o6) the poem has been slightly refined;
The finish is compacted and made more poetic. again: thanks.
This is out there all by itself, to be appreciated rather than critiqued, if i was going to be picky i'd say don't use your own name, it creates a feeling of pretension, or was that part of the plan?
Pretense? Yes, purely-so, and all for fun.
Pretension isn't always a bad thing.
If I were to -remove- myself from the time-travel;
the entire "collaboration" would dissolve.
And, I -do- so like working with "my friend Gould".
It keeps him alive, and gives me a life back then, in a sense,
for fun, and for connecting with like-others long past.
Anyone could do this. Who else has done so?