EDMUND SPENSER.

Born 1553.   |   Died January 16, 1599.

Appointed Poet-Laureate 1590.

Although there are not many parodies extant of Spenser’s poetry, yet the beautiful metre which he invented, and used with such success in The Faerie Queene, has been since imitated, or adopted by many of our leading poets. This will be seen by the following list of works, written in the Spenserian stanza, which has been compiled with great care, by Mr. Jonathan Bouchier, of Ropley.


The Alley.

(A Burlesque imitation of Spenser.)

In every town, where Thamis rolls his tyde,

A narrow pass there is, with houses low;

Where, ever and anon, the stream is eyed,

And many a boat soft sliding to and fro.

There oft are heard the notes of infant woe,

The short thick sob, loud scream, and shriller squall:

How can ye, mothers, vex your children so?

Some play, some eat, some lean against the wall,

And as they crouchen low, for bread and butter call.

And on the broken pavement, here and there,

Doth many a stinking sprat and herring lie:

A brandy and tobacco shop is near,

And hens, and hogs, and dogs are feeding by;

And here a sailor’s jacket hangs to dry.

At every door are sun-burnt matrons seen,

Mending old nets to catch the scaly fry;

Now singing shrill, and scolding oft between;

Scolds answer foul-mouth’d scolds; bad neighbourhood I ween.

The snappish cur (the passengers’ annoy)

Close at my heel with yelping treble flies;

The whimpering girl, and hoarser-screaming boy,

Join to the yelping treble, shrilling cries;

The scolding quean to louder notes doth rise,

And her full pipes those shrilling cries confound;

To her full pipes the grunting hog replies;

The grunting hogs alarm the neighbours round,

And curs, girls, boys, and scolds, in the deep bass are drown’d.

Hard by a sty, beneath a roof of thatch,

Dwelt Obloquy, who in her early days

Baskets of fish at Billingsgate did watch,

Cod, Whiting, oyster, mackarel, sprat or plaice;

There learn’d the speech from tongues that never cease.

Slander beside her, like a magpie, chatters,

With Envy, (spitting cat) dread foe to peace;

Like a cursed cur, Malice before her clatters,

And vexing every wight, tears clothes and all to tatters.

(One very coarse verse omitted.)

Such place hath Deptford, navy-building town,

Woolwich and Wapping, smelling strong of pitch;

Such Lambeth, envy of each band and gown,

And Twickenham such, which fairer scenes enrich,

Grots, statues, urns, and John’s dog and bitch,

Ne village is without, on either side,

All up the silver Thames, or all adown;

Ne Richmond’s self, from whose tall front are eyed

Vales, spires, meandering streams, and Windsor’s towery pride.

Alexander Pope.


The Holidayer.

The sportive swain in Sunday clothes is dressed,

And struts he proudly, head high held in air;

His sweetheart, who’s with charms like his impressed,

Thinketh, perdie, ‘Are we not both all there’?

Nor lacketh she adornment’s artful aid,

But with enticements rare is she yclout;

My pen, I ween, would fail describe the maid,

But she with practised skill is trickéd out,

And that she pleaseth Lubin fair Chloe doth not doubt.

From train and chaise they run to where the sands

Invite the lovers—many joys be there.

They foot it to the strains of German bands,

And at time-honoured Punch and Judy stare.

The wheedling portrait-taker catcheth them,

Their likeness taketh, and their cash also;

The wily boatman useth stratagem,

And out upon the billows they do go—

Not soon will they forget what followeth, I trow.

Then viands meet for holiday they buy—

Pork pies, fresh “natives,” sausages, cold beef—

And as, forsooth, such cakes make folk’s mouth dry,

The flowing cans do furnish much relief.

At length the railway bell doth loudly ring,

To tell them they no longer mote there stay;

They crowd in train, they songs again do sing,

As from the festive scene they go away.

When morrow cometh—ah, that dreadful holiday!

Funny Folks, June 12, 1886.

The following is the title of a small book written in imitation of Spenser’s style:—

“An original Canto of Spencer (sic): Designed as part of his Fairy Queen, but never Printed.”—Now made Publick by Nestor Ironside Esq.—The Second Edition. London. Printed for James Roberts, near the Oxford Arms in Warwick Lane, MDCCXIV.