THE BARNSTABLE BALL
A Lyric
(Appointed to be sung in all Social Meetings on the Cape)
March away with your old artillery;
Don't come back till we give you a call.
Put your Colonel into the pillory;
He broke up the Barnstable Ball.
Country folks don't go a-pleasuring
Every day, as it doth befall;
They with deepest scorn are measuring
Him who broke up the Barnstable Ball.
He came down with his motley company,
Stalking round the 'cultural hall;
Couldn't find a partner to jump any,
So broke up the Barnstable Ball.
Warn't it enough with their smoking and thundering,
Sweeping about like leaves in a squall,
But they must take to theft and plundering,—
Steal the half of the Barnstable Ball?
Put the music into their pocket,
Order the figure-man not to bawl,
Twenty jigs were still on the docket,
When they adjourned the Barnstable Ball.
Gov'nor A. won't hang for homicide,
That's a point that bothers us all;
He must banish ever from his side
Such as murdered the Barnstable Ball.
When they're old and draw'd with rheumatiz,
Let them say to their grandbabes small,
"Deary me, what a shadow of gloom it is
To remember the Barnstable Ball!"
This autumn saw the preparation of a new volume of poems, "Later Lyrics." Years had passed since the appearance of "Words for the Hour," and our mother had a great accumulation of poems, the arrangement of which proved a heavy task.
"The labor of looking over the manuscript nearly made me ill.... Had a new bad feeling of intense pressure in the right temple."
And again:—
"Nearly disabled by headaches.... Determine to push on with my volume."
"Almost distracted with work of various sorts—my book—the new house—this one full of company, and a small party in the evening."
"All these days much hurried by proofs. Went in the evening to the opening of the new wards in the Women's Hospital—read two short poems, according to promise. These were kindly received...."