The Dinner Bell! The Dinner Bell!

Photo by Stephani Schaefer, Los Molinos

INSTEAD OF SITTING WRAPPED UP IN FLANNEL
—Thomas Love Peacock

Instead of sitting wrapped up in flannel
With rheumatism in every joint,
I wish I was in the English Channel,
Just going 'round the Lizard Point
All southward bound, with the seas before me,
I should not care whether smooth or rough,
For then no visitors would call to bore me,
Of whose 'good-mornings' I have had enough.

_____________________

A FRAGMENT
—Thomas Love Peacock

Nay, deem me not insensible, Cesario,
To female charms; nor think this heart of mine
Is cas'd in adamant; because, forsooth,
I cannot ogle, and hyperbolize,
And whisper tender nothings in the ear
Of ev'ry would-be beauty, holding out
The bright but treacherous flame of flattery,
To watch the she-moths of a drawing room
Sport round the beam, and burn their pretty wings,
Ere conscious of their danger: yet, believe me,
I love a maid whose untranscended form
Is yet less lovely than her spotless mind.
With modest frankness, unaffected genius,
Unchang'd good humour, beauty void of art,
And polish'd wit that seeks not to offend,
And winning smiles that seek not to betray,
She charms the sight, and fascinates the soul.
Where dwells this matchless nymph? alas, Cesario,
'Tis but a sickly creature of my fancy,
Unparallel'd in nature.

____________________

Thomas Love Peacock, 1785-1866

I DUG, BENEATH A CYPRESS SHADE
—Thomas L. Peacock

I dug, beneath a cypress shade,
What well might seem an elfin's grave;
And every pledge in earth I laid,
That erst thy false affection gave.

I press'd them down the sod beneath;
I placed one mossy stone above;
And twined the rose's fading wreath
Around the sepulchre of love.

Frail as thy love, the flowers were dead
Ere yet the evening sun was set:
But years shall see the cypress spread,
Immutable as my regret.

____________________

The mountain sheep are sweeter,
But the valley sheep are fatter.
We therefore deemed it meeter
To carry off the latter.

(From The Misfortune of Elphin: The War-Song of Dinas Vawr by T.L. Peacock)

____________________

DUET
—Thomas Love Peacock

Milestone: All my troubles disappear,
When the dinner-bell I hear,
Over woodland, dale, and fell,
Swinging slow with solemn swell,—
The dinner-bell! the dinner-bell!

Hippy: What can bid my heart-ache fly?
What can bid my heart-ache die?
What can all the ills dispel,
In my morbid frame that dwell?
The dinner-bell! the dinner-bell!

Both: Hark!—along the tangled ground,
Loudly floats the pleasing sound!
Sportive Fauns to Dryads tell,
'Tis the cheerful dinner-bell!
The dinner-bell! the dinner-bell!

____________________

CASTLES IN THE AIR
—Thomas Love Peacock

My thoughts by night are often filled
With visions false as fair:
For in the past alone I build
My castles in the air.

I dwell not now on what may be:
Night shadows o'er the scene:
But still my fancy wanders free
Through that which might have been.

Lovebirds
Photo by Stephani Schaefer

___________________________

—Medusa

Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their POETRY, PHOTOS and ART, as well as announcements of Northern California poetry events, to kathykieth@hotmail.com (or snail ‘em to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726) for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets. Previously-published poems are okay for Medusa’s Kitchen, as long as you own the rights. (Please cite publication.) Medusa cannot vouch for the moral fiber of other publications, contests, etc. that she lists, however, so submit to them at your own risk. For more info about the Snake Empire, including guidelines for submitting to or obtaining our publications, click on the link to the right of this column: Rattlesnake Press (rattlesnakepress.com).