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THE MONKS OF BANCOWS MARCH. All-.—-Yrttdztitlt Mionge.

Written for Mr George Thomson's Welch Mclotlies.


Ernt-ztato, or Olfrid, King of Nortlmmherland, having besiegcd Chester in 6t3, and lirocltmael, a llritish prince, advancing to relieve it, the religions of the neighbouring monastery of,Bangor marched in procession, to pray for the success of their countrymen. But the British being totally defeated, the heathen victor put the monks to the sword, and destroyed their monastery. The tune to which these verses are adapted, is called the Monks‘ March, and is supposed to have been played at their ill-omened procession.

Warn the heathen trumpet’s clang
Round beleag'uer'd Chester rang,
Veiled nun and friar gray
lVlarch'd from Ranger's fair abbaye:
High their holy anthem sounds,
Cestria's vale the hymn rebounds,
Floating down the sylvan Dec,

0 miserere, Dominel

On the long procession goes,

Glory round their crosses glows,
And the Virgin-mother mild

In their peaceful banner smiled :
Who could think such saintly hand
Dootn’d to feel unhullow'd hand!
Such was the divine decree,

0 misemre, Domino !

_ Bands that masses only sung,
Hands that censors only swung,
Met the northern bow and bill,
Heard the war-cry wild and shrill :
Woe to Broclamael's feeble hand,
Woe to ()lfi'id's bloody brand,
Woe to Saxon cruelty,

O miserere, Domine!

Weltering amid warriors slain,

Spurn’d by steeds witlt bloody mane,
Slaughter'd down by heathen blade,
l‘»nngor's,peaceful monks are laid:
Word of parting rest unspolte,

Mass unsung, and bread unhroke;

For their souls for charity,

Sing 0 vtiscrrre, Damine!

Bangor! o'er the murder wail,
Long thy ruins told the tale,
Shatler'd towers and broken arch
Long recall'd the woful march : '
On thy shrine no tapers burn,
Never shall thy priests return;
The pilgrim sighs and sings for thee,
O ntisercre, Domino!

' William of llialmesbury says, that in his time the extent of the ruins of the monastery bore ample witness to the desolation occasioned by the Il1Z\S5ilCi‘B;—lklDl, semiruti parietes erclesin--um, tot ttnfractus pot-ticum, tonta tttrhtt rnderumquauutm vi; nlihi reruns.» l The hint of the following tale is taken from La Carriiacia Ma

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In the for eastern clime, no great while since,
Lived Sullaun Solimauu, a mighty prince,
Whose eyes, as oft as they perform'd their round,
Behold all others fix'd upon the ground;
Whose ears received the same unvaried phrase,
st Sultaun! thy vassal hears, and he obeysl»—
All have their tastes—this may the fancy strike
Of such grave folks as pomp and grandeur like;
For me, I love the honest heart and warm

Of monarch who can amble round his farm,
Or, when the toil of state no more annoys,

In chimney-corner seek domestic joys

I love a prince will bid the bottle pass, Exchanging with his subjects glance and glass; In fitting time, can, gayest of the gay,

Keep up the jest and mingle in the lay

Such monarchs best our free-born humours suit, But despots must be stately, stern, and mute.

This Solimaun, Serendih had in sway—

And where's Serendibl may some critic say— Good lack, mine honest friend, consult the chart, Scare not my Pegasus before I start!

If Renncll has it not, you 'll find, mayhnp,

The isle laid down in Captain Sindbad's map,-—
Famcd mariner‘. whose merciless narrations
Drove every friend and kinsman out of patience,
Till, fain to find a guest who thought them shorter,
Ile dcign'd to tell them over to a porter-

The last edition see by Long. and Co.,

Itces, Hurst, and Orrne, our fathers in the Row.

Screndib found, deem not my tale a fiction-
This Sultaun, whether lacking contradiction-—
(A sort-of stimulant which hath its uses,

To raise the spirits and reform thejuices,
Sovereign specific for all sort of euros

In my wife's practice, and perhaps in yours),
The Salmon lacking this same wholesome bitter,
Or cordial smooth, for prince's palate litter-
Or if some Mollah had hag-rid his dreams
With Degial, Ginnistan, and such wild themes
Belonging to the Mollalfs subtle craft,

l wot not—hut the Sultaun never laugh’d,
Scarce ate or drank, and took a melancholy
That scorn’d all remedy, profane or holy;

In his long list of melancholies, mad,

Or mazed, or dumb, hath Burton none so bad.


Physicians soon arrived, sage, ware, and tried,
As e'er scrawl'd jargon in a darken’d room;
with heedfnl glance the Sultaun's tongue they eyed,
Peep‘d in his bath, and God knows where beside,
And then in solemn accents spoke their doom,

it His majesty is very far from well.»

Then each to work with his specific fell :

The Hakim lbmhim instanter brought

His ungueut ltlahazzitn al Zerdukkaut,‘

While Roompot, a practitioner more wily,

ltelied on his Munaskif al lillfily.

More and yet more in deep array appear,

And some the front assail and some the rear!

Their remedies to reinforce and vary,

Came surgeon eke, and eke apothecary;

Till the tired monarch, though of words grown chary,
Yet dropt, to recompense their fruitless labour,
Some hint about a howstring or a sabre.

There lack‘d, I promise you, no longer speeches,

To rid the palace of those learned leeches.

Then was the council call‘d—~by their advice,
(They deem'd the matter ticklish all, and nice,
And sought to shift it off from their own shoulders),
Talars and couriers in all speed were sent,
To call a sort of eastern parliament
Of feudatory chieftains and free-holders-
Such have the Persians at this very day,
My gallant Malcolm calls them courioullai,-1
l ‘m not prepared to show in this slight song
That to Sereodib the some forms belong,—
Ii'en let the learn‘d go search, and tell me if I'm wrong.

The Omrahs,3 each with hand on scymitar,

Gave, like Sempronius, still their voice for war-tt The sabre of the Sttltaun in its sheath

Too long has slept, nor own'd the work of death; Let the Tamhourgi bid his signal rattle,

hang the loud gong, and raise the shout of battle! This dreary cloud that dims our sovereigns day Shall from his kindled bosom flit away,

When the bold Lootie wheels his courser round, And the arm'd elephant shall shake the ground. Each noble pants to own the glorious summons——And for the charges—-Lo! your faithful Commons!» The Riots who attended in their places

(Serendih language calls a farmer Riot)

Look’d rnefully in one another's faces,

From this oration anguring much disquiet,
Douhle assessment, forage, and free quarters:
And fearing these as China-men the Tartars,

Or as the whisker'd vermin fear the mousers,
Each fumbled in the pocket of his trowsers.

And next came forth the reverend Convocation,
Bald heads, white beards, and many a turban green,
Imaum and Mollah there of every station,
Santon, Fakir, and Calendar were seen.
Their votes were various— some advised a Mosque
With fitting revenues should be erected,
With seemly gardens and with gay Kiosque,
To recreate a band of priests selected;

glau, a novel ofGt'nm ttattista Cnsti.

| For these hard words see d'llerhelot, or the learned editor of the Recipes of Avicenna. ‘ Soc Sir John Malcolm’; ndtuiiahlc llistury of Persia. 5 Nobility.


Others opined that through the realms a dole

Be made to holy men, whose prayers might profit The Sultaun's weal in body and in soul;

But their long-headed chief, the Sheik U1-Sofit,
More closely touch‘d the pointr—<t Thy studious mood,»
Quoth hc, u 0 prince! hath thicken’d all thy blood,
And dull'd thy brain with labour beyond measure;
Wherefore relax a space and take thy pleasure,

And toy with beauty or tell o'er thy treasure;
From all the cares of state, my liege, enlarge thee,
And leave the burthen to thy faithful clergy.»


These counsels sage availed not a whit,

And so the patient (as is not uncommon Where grave physicians lose their time and wit)

Resolved to take advice of an old woman; _ Ilis mother she, a dame who once was beauleous, And still was call’d so by each subject duteous. Now, whether Fatima was witch in earnest,

Or only made believe, I cannot say-—
But she profess’d to cure disease the sternest,

By dint of magic amulet or lay;
And, when all other skill in vain was shown,
See deem’d it fitting time to use her own.

u Symputhia magica. bath wonders done,»

(Thus did old Fatima bespeak her son),

(R It works upon the fibres and the pores,

And thus, insensibly, our health restores,

And it must help us hcre.—Thou must endure
The ill, my son, or travel for the cure,

Search land and sea, and get, where'er you can,
The inmost vesture of a happy man,

I mean his SHIRT, my son, which, taken warm
And fresh from off his back, shall chase your harm,
Bid every current of your veins rejoice,

And your dull heart leap light as shepherd-boy's.\>
Such was the counsel from his mother came 1

I know not if she had some under-game,

As doctors have, who hid their patients roam

And live abroad, when sure to die at home;

Or if she thought, that somehow or another, Queen Regent sounded better than Queen Mother; But, says the Chronicle (who will go look it2)' That such was her advice—the Sultaun took it.

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u Enough of turbans,» said the weary king, u These dolimans of ours are not the thing;


Try we the Giaours, these men of coat and cap, I
Incline to think some of them must he happy;

At least they have as fair a cause as any can,
They drink good wine, and keep no Ramazan.
Then northward, ho!» The vessel cuts the sea,
And fair ltalia lies upon her lee.—

But fair Italia, she who once unfurl'd

Her eagle banners o’er a conquer’d world,

Long from her throne of domination tumbled,
Lay, by her quondam vassals, sorely hunibled;
The Pope himself l0ok'd pensive, pale, and lean,
And was not half the man he once had been.

“ While these the priest and those the noble fleeces, Our poor old boot,» they said, It is torn to pieces»! Its tops2 the vengeful claws of Austria feel,

And the Great Devil is rending toe and heel.3

If happiness you seek, to tell you truly,

We think she dwells with one Giovanni Bulli;

A tramontane, a heretic,—l.he buck,

Poffarcdio‘. still has all the luck;

liy land or ocean never strikes his flag-—

And then-a perfect walking money-bag.»

Off set our prince to seek John Bull's abode,

But first took France—it lay upon the road.

Monsieur Baboon, after much late commotion,
Was agitated like a settling ocean,
Quite out of sorts, and could not tell what ail'd him,
Only the glory of his house had fail'd him;
llesides, some tumours on his noddle hiding,
Gave indication of a recent hiding. 4
Our prince, though Sultauns of such things are heed-
Thought it a thing indelicate and needless
To ask, ifat that moment he was happy,
And Monsieur, seeing that he was comme il faut, 21
Loud voice muster'd up, for u Vine le Roi!»
Then whisper'd, << Ave you any news of Nappy!“
The Sultaun answer’d him with a cross-question,-—
It Pray ‘can you tell me aught of one John Bull,
That dwells somewhere beyond your herring-poolbv
The query seem’d of difficult digestion,
The party shrugg'<l, and grinn’d, and took his snuff,
And found his whole good breeding scarce enough.

Twilching his visage into as many puckels

As damsels wont to put into their tuckers

(Ere liberal Fashion damn'd both lace and lawn,
And bade the veil of modesty be drawn),
Iicplied the Frenchman, after a brief pause,

u Jean Bnol !—I vas not know him——yes, I vasI vas remember dat von year or two,

I saw him at von place call'd Vaterloo—

Ma foil il s'est tres-joliment battu,

Dat is for Englishman,—m'entendez-vousZ

But den he had wit him von damn son-gun,
Rogue I no like—dey call him Vellington.»
Monsieur's politeness could not hide his fret,

So Solimaun took leave and cross'd the strait.

' Master of the vessel.

1 The well-known resemblance of Italy in the map.
1 Florence, Venice, etc.

3 The Cahibriui, infested by bonds of assassins. One of thfi

leaders was called Fra Diztvolo, i. e. Brother Dcvil.
‘ Or drubbing, so called in the Slang dictionary.

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John Bull was in his very worst of moods,
Raving of sterile farms and unsold goods;
His sugar-loaves and bales about he threw,
And on his counter beat the devil's tattoo.
H is wars were ended, and the victory won,
But then ‘t was reckoning-day with honest John,
And authors vouch ‘I: was still this worthy’s way,
It Never to grumble till he came to pay;
And then he always thinks, his temper 's such,‘
The work too little, and the pay too much.»'
Yet, grumbler as he is, so kind and hearty,

That when his mortal foe was on the floor,

And past the power to harm his quiet more, Poor John had well nigh wept for Bonaparte! Such was the wight whom Solimaun salam’d,—at And who are you,» John answer’d, c and be d—d 7»

u A stranger, come to see the happiest man,

So, seignior, all avouch,—-in Frangistan.>\1

u Happy! my tenants breaking on my hand? Unstock'd my pastures, and untill'd my land; Sugar and rum a drug, and mice and moths

The sole consumers of my good broad-clothsllappy ! why, cursed war and racking tax

Have left us scarcely raiment to our backs.»

(1 In that case, Seignior, I may take my leave;

I came to ask a favour—but I grieve——»

<< Favour?» said John, and eyed the Sultaun hard, 4! It ‘s my belief you came to break the yard l—But, stay, you look like some poor foreign sinner,—Take that, to buy yourself a shirt and dinner. »With that he chuck’d a guinea at his head;

But, with due dignity, the Sultaun said,

“ Permit me, sir, your bounty to decline;

A shirt indeed I seek, but none of thine.

Seignior, I kiss your hands, so fare you well.»

u Kiss and be d—d,» quoth John, K and go to hell E»

Next door to John there dwelt his sister Peg,

Once a wild lass as ever shook a leg,

V\'hen the blithe hagpipe blew—but soberer now,
She doucely span her flax and milk'd her cow.
And whereas erst she was a needy slattern,

Nor now of wealth or cleanliness a pattern,

Yet once a-month her house was partly swept,
And once a-week a plenteous board she kept.
And whereas eke the vixen used her claws

And tccth, of yore, on slender provocation,
She now was grown amenable to laws,
A quiet soul as any in the nation;

The sole remembrance of her warlike joys

Was in old songs she sang to please her boys.
John Bull, whom, in their years of early strife,
She wont to lead a cat-and-doggish life,

Now found the woman, as he said, a neighbour,
Who look’d to the main chance, declined no labour,
Loved a long grace, and spoke a northern jargon,
And was d——-d close in making of a bargain.

The Sultaun enter'd, and he made his leg,

And with decorum curtsied sister Peg;

(She loved a book, and knew a thing or two, And guess’d at once with whom she had to do.)

' See the True-Born Englishman, hy Daniel de Fee. 1 Europe.

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Now, for the land of verdant Erin,

The Sultaun's royal bark is stccring,

The emerald Isle where honest Paddy dwells,

The cousin of John Bull, as story tells.

For a long space had John, with words of thunder, Hard looks, and harder knocks, kept Paddy under, Till the poor lad, like boy that 's flogg'd unduly, Had gotten somewhat rcstive and unruly.

liard was his lot and lodging, you 'll allow,

A wigwam that would hardly serve a sow;

His landlord, and of middlemen two brace,

Had screw'd his rent up to the starving place;

His garment was a top-coat, and an old one,

His meal was a potatoe, and a cold one;

But still for fun or frolic, and all that,

In the round world was not the match of Pat.

The Sultaun saw him on a holiday,

Which is with Paddy still a jolly clay :

When mass is ended, and his load of sins
C0nfess’d, and Mother Church hath from her binns
Dealt forth a bonus of imputed merit,

Then is Pat's time for fancy, whim, and spirit!
To jest, to sing, to caper fair and free,

And dance as light as leaf upon the tree.

(( By Mahomet,» said Sultaun Solimaun,

(1 That ragged fellow is our very man 1

Rush in and seize him—do not do him hurt,
But, will he nill he, let me have his shirt.»

Shilela their plan was well nigh after baulking

(Much less provocation will set it a-walking),

But the odds that foil'd Hercules foil'd Paddy Whack; They seized, and they tloor'd, and they stripp'd hin1

Alack !

Up-buhboo! Paddy had not——a shirt to his back I ! ! And the king, disappointed, with sorrow and shame, Went back to Serendib as sad as he came.

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\Vu.coMt=., grave stranger, to our green retreats,
Where health with exercise and freedom meets!
Thrice welcome, sage, whose philosophic plan

By Nature's limits metes the rights of man;
Generous as he, who now for freedom bawls,
Now gives full value for true Indian shawls;

O'cr court, o'er custom-house, his shoe who flings,
Now bilks excisemen, and now bullies kings.
Like his, I ween, thy comprehensive mind

Holds laws as 1nouse—traps baited for mankind;
Thine eye, applausivc, each sly vermin sees

That baulks the snare, yet battens on the cheese; Thine car has heard, with scorn instead of awe,. Our buckskin'd_justices expound the law, Wire-draw the acts that fix for wires the pain, And for the netted partridge noose the swaiu; And thy vindictive arm would fain have broke The last light fetter of the feudal yoke,

To give the denizens of wood and wild,

Nature's free race, to each her free—born child.

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Seek we yon glades, where the proud oak o'ertops Wide-waving seas of birch and hazcl copsc, Leaving between deserted isles of land,

Where stunted heath is patch'd with ruddy sand: And lonely on the waste the yew is seen,

Or stra;;;;lin;; hollies spread a brighter green. llere, little worn, and winding dark and steep, Our scarce-mark’d path descends yon dingle deep: l"ollow—but hecdful, cautious of a trip,

In earthly mire philosophy may slip;

Step slow and wary o'er that swampy stream,
Till, guided by the charcoal's smothering steam,
We reach the frail yet barricaded door

Of hovel fot-m’d for poorest of the poor;

No hearth the fire, no vent the smoke receives,
The walls are wattlcs, and the covering leaves ;
For, if such hut, our forest statutes say,

Rise in the progress of one night and day

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As wigwam wild, that shrouds the native from On the bleak coast of frost-barr'd Labrador.‘

Approach, and through the unlatticed wi-ndow peep,

Nay, shrink not back, the inmate is asleep;

Sunk mid yon sordid blankets, till the sun

Stoop to the west, the plundcrer's toils are done.
Loaded and primed, and prompt from desperate hand,
Rifle and fowling-piece beside him stand,

\Vhile round the but are in disorder laid

The tools and booty of his lawless tmtle;

For force or fraud, resistance or escape,

The crow, the saw, the bludgeon, and the crape.

His pilfer'd powder in yon nook he hoards,

And the filch'd lead the church's roof affords—

(Hence shall the rectorseongregation fret,

That while his sermon ‘s dry, his walls are wet.)

The fish-spear barb‘d, the sweeping net are there,
Doe-hicles, and pheasant plumes, and skins of hare,
Cordage for toils, and wiring for the snare.

llartcr'd for game from chase or warren won,

You cask holds moonlight,1 run when moon was none: And late-snatch'd spoils lie sto\v'd in hutch apart,

To wait the associate higglers evening cart.

Look on his pallet foul, and mark his rest: What scenes perturh’d are acting in his breast ! l'lis sable brow is wet and wrung with pain,

And his dilated nostril toils in vain,

For short and scant the breath each effort draws,
And 'twixt each effort Nature claims a pause.
Beyond the loose and sable neckcloth stretclfd,
His sinewy throat seems by convulsion twitch'd,
While the tongue falters, as to utterance lotll,
Sounds of dire import—watch-word, threat, and oath.
Tllouglt, stupilied by toil and dru3g'd with gin,
The body sleep, the restless guest within

Now plies on wood and wold his lawless trade,
Now in the fangs ofjustice wakes dismay'd.--

tr Was that wild start of terror and despair, Those bursting eye-balls, and that wildcr’d air, Signs of compunction for a rnurder'd hare‘! Do the locks bristle and the eye-brows arch, For grouse or partridge massacred in March 2»

No, scoffer, no! Attend, and mark with awe,

There is no wicket in the gate of law!

llc, that would e'er so lightly set ajar

That awful portal must undo each bar;

Tempting occasion, habit, passion, pride, _ \\'ill join to storm the breach, and force the barrier wide.

That ruffian, whom true men avoid and dread, Whom brnisers, poachers, smugglers, call Black Ned, Was Edward Mausell once;--the lightest heart,

That ever pl-_ty‘d on holiday his part!
The leader he in every Christmas game,
The harvest feast grew blither when he came,

1 Such is the law in the New Forest. Hampshire, tending; greatly to increase the various settlements ofthieves, smu3glB\"§,'t1m1_‘1”‘“" stealers, who infest it. In the forest courts the prestdtnti J“d5° wears as a badge of office an antique stirrup, said to have bztzn that of William ltttfus. See Mr William Rose I sptrtleil@"'v titled “The Red Ring."

‘ A cant name for smuggled spirits.

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