| |
| 374 |
ST. GEORGE FOR ENGLAND.
|
| |
EXPOSTULATIUNCULA. sive QUERIMONIUNCULA ad ANTONIUM
[ATHERTON] ob Poema JOHANNIS GRUBB, Viri του πανυ ingenio-
sissimi in lucom nondum editi.
TONI! Tune sines divina poemata Grubbi
Intomb'd in secret thus still to remain any longer,
Τουνομα σου shall last, Ω Γρυββε διαμπερες αει,
Grubbe tuum nomen vivet dum nobilis ale-a
Efftcit heroas, dignamque heroes puellam.
Est genus heroum, quos nobilis efficit ale-a
Qui pro niperkin clamant, quaternque liquoris
Quem vocitant Homines Brandy, Superi Cherry-brandy
Sæpe illi long-cut, vel small-cut flare Tobacco
Sunt solid pipos. Ast si generosior herba
(Per varios casus, per tot discrimina rerum)
Mundungus desit, tum non funeare recusant
Brown-paper tostâ, vel quod lit arundine bed-mat.
Hic labor, hoc opus est heroum ascendere sedes!
Ast ego quo rapiar ? quo me feret enthens andor,
Grubbe, tui memorem ? Divinum expande poema.
Quæ mora ? quæ ratio est, quin Grubbi protinus anser
Virgilii, Flaccique simul canat inter olores ?
At length the importunity of his friends prevailed,
and Mr. Grubb's song was published at Oxford, under
the following title:
THE BRITISH HEROES
A New Poem in honour of St. George
By Mr. JOHN GRUBB
School-master of Christ-Church
OXON. 1688.
Favete linguis: carmina non prius
Audita, musarum sacerdos
Canto. — HOR.
THE story of king Arthur old
Is very memorable,
The number of his valiant knights,
And roundness of his table :
| |
|
| |
| |
ST. GEORGE FOR ENGLAND.
| 375
| |
The knights around his table in 5
A circle sate, d'ye see :
And altogether made up one
Large hoop of chivalry.
He had a sword, both broad and sharp,
Y-cleped Caliburn, 10
Would cut a flint more easily
Than pen-knife cuts a corn ;
As case-knife does a capon cane,
So would it carve a rock,
And split a man at single slash, 15
From noddle down to nock.
As Roman Augur's steel of yore
Dissected Tarquin's riddle,
So this would cut both conjurer
And whetstone thro' the middle. 20
He was the cream of Brecknock,
And flower of all the Welsh :
But George he did the dragon fell,
And gave him a plaguy squelsh.
St. George he was for England; St. Dennis was for France;
Sing, Honi soit qui mal y pense. 26
Pendragon, like his father Jove,
Was fed with milk of goat ;
And like him made a noble shield
Of she-goat's shaggy coat : 30
On top of burnisht helmet he
Did wear a crest of leeks;
| |
| 376 |
ST. GEORGE FOR ENGLAND.
|
| |
And onions' head whose dreadful nod
Drew tears down hostile cheeks.
Itch and Welsh blood did make him hot, 35
And very prone to ire ;
H’ was ting'd with brimstone, like a match,
And would as soon take fire.
As brimstone he took inwardly
When scurf gave him occasion, 40
His postern puff of wind was a
Sulphureous exhalation.
The Briton never tergivers'd,
But was for adverse drubbing,
And never turn'd his back to aught, 45
But to a post for scrubbing.
His sword would serve for battle, or
For dinner, if you please;
When it had slain a Cheshire man,
'Twould toast a Cheshire cheese. 50
He wounded, and, in their own blood,
Did anabaptize Pagans:
But George he made the dragon an
Example to all dragons.
St. George he was for England; St. Dennis was for France;
Sing, Honi soit qui mal y pense. 56
Brave Warwick Guy, at dinner time,
Challeng'd a gyant savage ;
And streight came out the unweildy lout
Brim-full of wrath and cabbage : 60
| |
| |
ST. GEORGE FOR ENGLAND.
| 377
| |
He had a phiz of latitude,
And was full thick i'the middle;
The cheeks of puffed trumpeter,
And paunch of squire Beadle.
But the knight fell'd him, like an oak, 65
And did upon his back tread;
The valiant knight his weapon cut,
And Atropos his packthread.
Besides he fought with a dun cow,
As say the poets witty, 70
dreadful dun, and horned too,
Like dun of Oxford city:
The fervent dog-days made her mad,
By causing heat of weather,
Syrius and Procyon baited her, 75
As bull-dogs did her father:
Grasiers, nor butchers this fell beast,
E'er of her frolick hindred;
John Dosset she'd knock down as flat,
As John knocks down her kindred : 80
Her heels would lay ye all along,
And kick into a swoon ;
Frewin's cow-heels keep up your corpse,
But hers would beat you down.
| |
| 378 |
ST. GEORGE FOR ENGLAND.
|
| |
She vanquisht many a sturdy wight, 85
And proud was of the honour ;
Was pufft by mauling butchers so,
As if themselves had blown her.
At once she kickt, and pusht at Guy.
But all that would not fright him ; 90
Who wav'd his winyard o'er sir-loyn,
As if he'd gone to knight him.
He let her blood, frenzy to cure.
And eke he did her gall rip ;
His trenchant blade, like cook's long spit, 95
Ran thro' the monster's bald-rib:
He rear'd up the vast crooked rib,
Instead of arch triumphal :
But George hit th' dragon such a pelt,
As made him on his bum fall. 100
St. George he was for England ; St. Dennis was for France;
Sing, Honi soit qui mal y pense.
Tamerlain, with Tartarian bow,
The Turkish squadrons slew;
And fetch'd the pagan crescent down, 105
With half-moon made of yew :
His trusty bow proud Turks did gall
With showers of arrows thick,
And bow-strings, without strangling, sent 110
Grand-Visiers to old Nick:
| |
| |
ST. GEORGE FOR ENGLAND.
| 379
| |
Much turbants, and much Pagan pates
He made to humble in dust;
And heads of Saracens he fixt
On spear, as on a sign-post :
He coop'd in cage Bajazet the prop 115
Of Mahomet's religion,
As if 't had been the whispering bird,
That prompted him, the pigeon.
In Turkey-leather scabbard, he
Did sheath his blade so trenchant: 120
But George he swing'd the dragon's tail,
And cut off every inch on't.
St. George he was for England; St. Dennis was for France;
Sing, Honi soit qui mal y pense.
The amazon Thalestris was 125
Both beautiful and bold ;
She sear'd her breasts with iron hot,
And bang'd her foes with cold.
Her hand was like the tool, wherewith
Jove keeps proud mortals under: 130
It shone just like his lightning,
And batter'd like his thunder.
Her eye darts lightning, that would blast
The proudest he that swagger'd,
And melt the rapier of his soul, 135
In its corporeal scabbard.
| |
| 380 |
ST. GEORGE FOR ENGLAND.
|
| |
Her beauty, and her drum to foes
Did cause amazement double ;
As timorous larks amazed are
With light, and with a low-bell : 140
With beauty, and that lapland-charm.
Poor men she did bewitch all;
Still a blind whining lover had,
As Pallas had her scrich-owl.
She kept the chastness of a nun 145
In armour, as in cloyster :
But George undid the dragon just
As you'd undo an oister.
St. George he was for England ; St. Dennis was for France;
Sing, Honi soit qui mal y pense. 150
Stout Hercules was offspring of
Great Jove and fair Alcmene :
One part of him celestial was,
One part of him terrene.
To scale the hero's cradle walls 155
Two fiery snakes combin'd,
And, curling into swaddling cloaths,
About the infant twin'd :
But he put out these dragons' fires,
And did their hissing stop ; 160
As red-hot iron with hissing noise
Is quencht in blacksmith's shop.
| |
| | | | | | | |