The Sun.
London, England, 1824-07-03 00:00:00

FOR TIIE SUN.

MR. EDITOR—In ransacking a chest of old
papers, belonging to my great grandfather,
happened to stumble upon the adjoined composi-
tion, which, as it afforded me some amusement at
the time,.l now send it to you for the edification
of your Antiquarian Readers. Who the Author
was, or in what age he flourished, it is difficult to
ascertain at present. From a passage, however,
in the sixth stanza, he must have lived during, or
subsequent to, the reign of" Good Queen Bess,"
who, it will be remembered, first conferred the
honour of Knighthood upon a loin of beef.
According to a memorandum found annexed to
the Poem, it was composed by the Author whilst
sitting patiently at table, waiting for a savoury
slice of beef, but which, it would appear, he was
not destined to enjoy, owing to the unskilfulness
of the carver (an incident of itself quite sufficient
to prove the antiquity of the Poem), who found
all his efforts ,rendered unavailing by the perse-
vering and desperate obtrusion of a huge mass of
bone.

The fertile imagination of the Poet boldly em-
bodied beef and bone, and converting them into
heroes, bursts forth in honour of their achieve-
ments ; but he appears at length to have been
obliged to withdraw from the scene of action, to
satisfy the cravings of his appetite upon a less
heroic and more yielding joint.
From the worm-eaten state of the Manuscript)

it has been found necessary to omit some stanzas,
which could not be compietly made out. Such
as remain are very much at your service, to do
with them as you think proper ; and
I am, Sir, as usual,
Your faithful servant,
A. L. G.

THE BATTLE WITH THE BONE.
To thee, my gentle • GODrILEY, bight,
I dedicate this lay,
Now hie thee home; while still the light
Of Sol detains the day,
And should some rude, discourteous wight
Assail thee on the way,
Altho' thou best in mortal fright,
Full boldly thou shalt say :
" Now, hold me not, thou brave Sir Knight,
" Hold me not now, I pray,
" Indeed, 'tis not from fear to fight,
" But now I cannot stay,
" Fort Shoreditch spire is still in sight,
" And I have far to stray :"
Tho' speaking fair, he still despite,
May urge thee to the fray,
Then gird thee up thy buckram tight,
And briskly scud away.
Sir loin been taken by surprize,
Is found in woful plight
Then Bone comes in, and mainly tries
To save the wounded knight.
I.
4: Let home-spun Bard attempt with broken lyre,
To carol forth in most unseemly strain,
And think he burn, poor elf ! with living fire ;
Let Homer the mighty Hector slain,
And paint the battle on great Ilium's plain ;
muse's strength in nobler theme is shewn,
lie grovels low with mickle care and pain,
Her seed of Fame in higher ground is strown,
She soars aloft, and sings the Battle with the Bone I
IL
Of the high plain a barren rock which crown.. •
(Whose lofty brow seems butting at the skies)
An antique structure on the summit frowns,
lint bent, as din to watch the lake it tries,
Which flowing calm beneath so sweetly sighs,
That Cynthia thither sends her beams to play,
Till jealous Auster in his fury rise,
And hlust'ring laud, now friAtena them away,
Or dashing wild among, he drowns them in the spray. 11
111.
And now, of who within these,er.stle walls
Securely dwelt, the gentle muse must sing,
Be ready Fame to Inflow where she calls,
And, oh I be aura thy loudest tromp to bring,
To sound a blast as thro' the world shall ring !
No lout so mickle rare by mortal man,
As the ri bold Baron Beef bath e'er been seen,
Nor by Dan Sol, since first his race began,
¶ And yet he many times path thro' the welkin ran.
• • • • • • •
VI.
The Baron hies him to his banquet hall,
(A lof:y chamber meet and passing great)
And sends a page, his son, Sir Loin, to call,
And then proclaim a solemn feast of state,
For on Sir Loin fair honour rose of late,
Once simple Loin but now a doughty knight,
To his huge fat be owed this higher fate,
Bestrew my heart ! but 'twas a goodly. sight
To ace at once so stout, withal so sleek a wight.

VII.
I marvel why the muse has ccas'd her lay,
Perchance she's hoarse, and cannot further sing;
Or that her fingers, long unus'd to play,
Too rough have swept the chords and snapp'd a string :
But wherefore loth she weep, and piteous wring
Iler hands in doleful plight ? Alas ! 'tis sad
To hear her sob so bitterly,—poor thing !
Ah me ! I fear she must be very bad—
For how she beats her breast as thof ehe had been mad.

VIII.
*0 " Now truly, Sir, thou dolt not guesslne right,
" I am not hoarse or mad,"—the Muse replied—
" Grief drowns my voice, or still, from mom till night,
" I cheerfully would sing"—and then she sigh`d—
" Ah woe is me ! and whither shall I hide
" My load of pain--alas, and well a day !
" The great Sir Loin is lost his father's pride !"
Too far that morning he had hap'd to stray,
When a grim Butcher setz'd, and bore the prize away.

IX.
Thus have I seen young Butterfly yclad
In dress, that with the rainbow might compare,
When straightway passeth little truant lad,
Who, looking up, hath chaune'd to spyc him there,
As, floating careless on the ambient air,
The motley insect flutters round and round ;
To work hum woe, the urchin doth prepare,
And watching well, till goodly time be found,
Why then ne knocketh down Sir Butterfly to ground. tt

• Who this Gonntry was, it is now impossible to discover,
which is the more to be lamented, at he was, no doubt, some
particular friend of the Author's.
1- H.ne opirookbe a ybleivebtlenaitillted between Hackney,
Shoreditch and that
, and in those times it was
ret:
village. But now, thanks to the introduction of broad pave-
11ybtol
ments and gas lights, (oil in particular) there is really very
little danger to be apprehended for the traveller.
The opening Stanza is worthy of the subject, for after all,
of how much more importance Is that which treats rather of
the sustenance of man than his destruction.
II The figure Prosopopteia, or personification, is a great fa-
vourite with our author. lie uses it boldly and unsparingly
as this stanza abundantly testifies. All the world knows Cyn-
thia to be a lady, (although her silence might be a reasonable
cause of doubt) but whether the moon-beams were little boys
or little girls does not appear : as to Auster from his vapouring
humour be was probably an Officer of the Tenth.
§ The alliteration employed in this and other stanzas, favours
the idea that our author flourished somewhere about the period
stated. In that Augustan age of English literature, the orna-
ment alluded to was very much in vogue.
With what beautiful simplicity this is expressed, and yet
how true it is ! Now, if Geo. Bidder, the calculating boy, had
lived in those days, he might in a trice have helped our author
to how many times the sun had actually shone since the foun-
dation of the world : lie has answered questions much more
difficult, proposed to'him by certain learned ladies.
•* We are here introduced behind the scenes, as it were, of
our author's imagination, and permitted to enjoy the genuine
conversation that passed between him and his weeping Muse,
with whom he really appears to have been upon the most fa-
miliar-terms.
tt The idea of comparing a sirloin of beef to a butterfly is
equally original and striking.

And he—the son of Beef, how fares he now ?
He struggles hard, with all his might and main,
But Butcher holds him very tight, I trove ;
And tho' he would escape, he tries in vain,
Bootless his effbrta to get free agAin :
Then he bethinks him of his father's hall,
But certes this (loth but increase his pain :
Take heed, ye worldlings ! and beware his fall
From princely pomp and state, to greasy Butcher's stall ! •
• • • • 9 1/1 •

XIII.

The Lacquey had announc'd the dinner set,
And soon each guest had hied him to his seat,
Good jolly knaves they were who then had met,
And each was wofully inclin'd to eat,
And pay full honour to the jovial treat :
The grace is said—Sir Loin uncover'd lies,
" All me ! what various ills betide" good meat,
What rapture sparkles in their greedy eyes,
As from his smoking sides the grateful fumes arise !

XI V.
But where's the joint can view th'
_uplifted knife,

Feel its keen edge with eye serenely.bright,
Nor make one effort to redeem his life :
Beef looks aghast, he sickens at the sight,
Shakes like an aspen leaf with deadly fright,
Then screams aloud, invokes the mighty aid
Of BONE to help him in his woful plight;
Oh may his coming be not long delay'd,
To snatch htm from the wrath of savage sharp set blade.

XV.
" Haste hither, BONE !" he cries, with frantic grief,
" Oh, hither haste to save thy old ally,
" Or men will carve and cat up poor .Roast Beef
" Wilt thou then stand a tame spectator by,
" And hear my horrid groans, and see me die ;
" If once within their hungry clutch I fall,
" Vain were all hope to run, or yet to fly,
" And, tho' I stoutly for assistance call,
" They will not heed my cries, but soon danollah all !"
XVI.