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Martin: A Bon Gaultier Ballad
Sweet response, delightful music! Gaze upon thy noble
charge,
Till the spirit fill thy bosom that inspired the meek
Laffarge.
Better thou wert dead before me,—better, better that
I stood,
Looking on thy murdered body, like the injured Daniel
Good!
Better thou and I were lying, cold and timber-stiff and
dead,
With a pan of burning charcoal underneath our nuptial
bed!
Cursed be the Bank of England's notes, that tempt the
soul to sin!
Cursed be the want of acres,—doubly cursed the want
of tin!
Cursed be the marriage-contract, that enslaved thy soul
to greed!
Cursed be the sallow lawyer, that prepared and drew the
deed!
Cursed be his foul apprentice, who the loathsome fees
did earn!
Cursed be the clerk and parson,—cursed be the whole
concern!
Oh, 'tis well that I should bluster,—much I'm like to
make of that;
Better comfort have I found in singing'All Around my
Hat.'
But that song, so wildly plaintive, palls upon my British
ears.
'Twill not do to pine for ever,—I am getting up in years.
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