Chapter II: The Hymn of the Wiltshire Labourers

THE HYMN OF THE WILTSHIRE LABOURERS

'Don't you all think that we have a great need to Cry to our God to put it in the hearts of our greassous Queen and her Members of Parlerment to grant us free bread!'

LUCY SIMPKINS, _at Bremhill_.

Oh GOD, who by Thy Prophet's hand
Didst smite the rocky brake,
Whence water came, at Thy command,
Thy people's thirst to slake;
Strike, now, upon this granite wall,
Stern, obdurate, and high;
And let some drops of pity fall
For us who starve and die!

The GOD, who took a little child,
And set him in the midst,
And promised him His mercy mild,
As, by Thy Son, Thou didst:
Look down upon our children dear,
So gaunt, so cold, so spare,
And let their images appear
Where Lords and Gentry are!

Oh GOD, teach them to feel how we,
When our poor infants droop,
Are weakened in our trust in Thee,
And how our spirits stoop;
For, in Thy rest, so bright and fair,
All tears and sorrows sleep:
And their young looks, so full of care,
Would make Thine Angels weep!

The GOD, who with His finger drew
The Judgment coming on,
Write, for these men, what must ensue,
Ere many years be gone!
Oh GOD, whose bow is in the sky,
Let them not brave and dare,
Until they look (too late) on high,
And see an Arrow there!

Oh GOD, remind them! In the bread
They break upon the knee,
These sacred words may yet be read,
'In memory of Me!'
Oh GOD, remind them of His sweet
Compassion for the poor,
And how He gave them Bread to eat,
And went from door to door!

CHARLES DICKENS.

NEW SONG LINES ADDRESSED TO MARK LEMON

1849

NEW SONG

Dickens, like Silas Wegg, would sometimes 'drop into poetry' when writing to intimate friends, as, for example, in a letter to Maclise, the artist, which began with a parody of Byron's lines to Thomas Moore--

'My foot is in the house,
My bath is on the sea,
And, before I take a souse,
Here's a single note to thee.'

A more remarkable instance of his propensity to indulge in parody of this kind is to be found in a letter addressed to Mark Lemon in the spring of 1849. The novelist was then enjoying a holiday with his wife and daughters at Brighton, whence he wrote to Lemon (who had been ill), pressing him to pay them a visit. After commanding him to 'get a clean pocket-handkerchief ready for the close of "Copperfield" No. 3--"simple and quiet, but very natural and touching"--_Evening Bore_,' Dickens invites his friend in lines headed 'New Song,' and signed 'T. Sparkler,' the effusion also bearing the signatures of other members of the family party--Catherine Dickens, Annie Leech, Georgina Hogarth, Mary Dickens, Katie Dickens, and John Leech.

NEW SONG

TUNE--'LESBIA HATH A BEAMING EYE'

I

Lemon is a little hipped,
And this is Lemon's true position--
He is not pale, he's not white-lipped,
Yet wants a little fresh condition.
Sweeter 'tis to gaze upon
Old Ocean's rising, falling billers,
Than on the Houses every one
That form the street called Saint Anne's Willers!
Oh my Lemon, round and fat,
Oh my bright, my right, my tight 'un,
Think a little what you're at--
Don't stay at home, but come to Brighton!

II

Lemon has a coat of frieze,
But all so seldom Lemon wears it,
That it is a prey to fleas,
And ev'ry moth that's hungry, tears it.
Oh, that coat's the coat for me,
That braves the railway sparks and breezes,
Leaving ev'ry engine free
To smoke it, till its owner sneezes!
Then my Lemon, round and fat,
L., my bright, my right, my tight 'un,
Think a little what you're at--
On Tuesday first, come down to Brighton!

T. SPARKLER.

WILKIE COLLINS'S PLAY 'THE LIGHTHOUSE'

1855

I.--THE PROLOGUE

'THE LIGHTHOUSE'

Wilkie Collins composed two powerful dramas for representation at Dickens's residence, Tavistock House, a portion of which had been already adapted for private theatricals, the rooms so converted being described in the bills as 'The Smallest Theatre in the World.' The first of these plays was called _The Lighthouse_, and the initial performance took place on June 19, 1855. Dickens not only wrote the Prologue and 'The Song of the Wreck,' but signally distinguished himself by enacting the part of Aaron Gurnock, a lighthouse-keeper, his clever impersonation recalling Frederick Lemaitre, the only actor he ever tried to take as a model.

With regard to 'The Song of the Wreck,' Dickens evidently intended to bestow upon it a different title, for, in a letter addressed to Wilkie Collins during the preparation of the play, he said: 'I have written a little ballad for Mary--"The Story of the Ship's Carpenter and the Little Boy, in the Shipwreck."' The song was rendered by his eldest daughter, Mary (who assumed the role of Phoebe in the play); it was set to the music composed by George Linley for Miss Charlotte Young's pretty ballad, 'Little Nell,' of which Dickens became very fond, and which his daughter had been in the habit of singing to him constantly since her childhood. Dr. A. W. Ward, Master of Peter-house, Cambridge University, refers to 'The Song of the Wreck' as 'a most successful effort in Cowper's manner.'

THE PROLOGUE

(_Slow music all the time; unseen speaker; curtain down._)

A story of those rocks where doom'd ships come
To cast them wreck'd upon the steps of home,
Where solitary men, the long year through--
The wind their music and the brine their view--
Warn mariners to shun the beacon-light;
A story of those rocks is here to-night.
Eddystone Lighthouse!

(_Exterior view discovered._)

In its ancient form,
Ere he who built it wish'd for the great storm
That shiver'd it to nothing,[2] once again
Behold outgleaming on the angry main!
Within it are three men; to these repair
In our frail bark of Fancy, swift as air!
They are but shadows, as the rower grim
Took none but shadows in his boat with him.

So be _ye_ shades, and, for a little space,
The real world a dream without a trace.
Return is easy. It will have ye back
Too soon to the old beaten dusty track;
For but one hour forget it. Billows, rise;
Blow winds, fall rain, be black, ye midnight skies;
And you who watch the light, arise! arise!

(_Exterior view rises and discovers the scene._)

II.--THE SONG OF THE WRECK

THE SONG OF THE WRECK

I

The wind blew high, the waters raved,
A ship drove on the land,
A hundred human creatures saved
Kneel'd down upon the sand.
Three-score were drown'd, three-score were thrown
Upon the black rocks wild,
And thus among them, left alone,
They found one helpless child.

II

A seaman rough, to shipwreck bred,
Stood out from all the rest,
And gently laid the lonely head
Upon his honest breast.
And travelling o'er the desert wide
It was a solemn joy,
To see them, ever side by side,
The sailor and the boy.

III

In famine, sickness, hunger, thirst,
The two were still but one,
Until the strong man droop'd the first
And felt his labours done.
Then to a trusty friend he spake,
'Across the desert wide,
O take this poor boy for my sake!'
And kiss'd the child and died.

IV

Toiling along in weary plight
Through heavy jungle, mire,
These two came later every night
To warm them at the fire.
Until the captain said one day,
'O seaman good and kind,
To save thyself now come away,
And leave the boy behind!'

V

The child was slumbering near the blaze:
'O captain, let him rest
Until it sinks, when God's own ways
Shall teach us what is best!'
They watch'd the whiten'd ashy heap,
They touch'd the child in vain;
They did not leave him there asleep,
He never woke again.