1865-1866.
I stood on a tower in the wet,
And New Year and Old Year met,
And winds were roaring and blowing;
And I said, "O years! that meet in tears,
Have ye aught that is worth the knowing?"
Science enough and exploring,
Wanderers coming and going;
Matter enough for deploring,
But aught that is worth the knowing?
Seas at my feet were flowing,
Waves on the shingle pouring;
Old Year roaring and blowing,
And New Year blowing and roaring.
The following parody, which appeared shortly afterwards, is scarcely inferior to the Laureate's lines.—
1867-1868.
I sat in a 'bus in the wet,
"Good Words" I had happened to get,
With Tennyson's last bestowing;
And I said, "O bard! who works so hard,
Have ye aught that is worth the knowing?"
Verses enough and so boring,
Twaddle quite overflowing,
Rubbish enough for deploring;
But aught that is worth the knowing?
Placards on walls were glowing,
Puffs in the papers pouring,
"Good Words" roaring and blowing,
"Once a Week" blowing and roaring!
Or, "another way," as the cookery books say—