Catch Constantinople’s beams,
So my soul from prosody’s phosphorus
Still gathers Dædalian gleams.
Funny Folks, May 11, 1878.
The Family Herald (London) for July 28, 1888, contained an amusing article on Parodies, from which the following is an extract:
“But we wish to get away from well-trodden tracks, and we will for once forsake our usual purely didactic groove in order that we may give our readers an idea of what we regard as artistic drollery, Take this dreadful imitation of Mr. Swinburne’s manner. The parodist seems to have genuinely enjoyed his work; and we have no doubt but that Mr. Swinburne laughed as heartily as anybody. The poet is supposed to be attending a wedding of distinguished persons in Westminster Abbey, and the naughty scoffer represents him as bursting forth with the following rather alarming clarion call—
There is glee in the groves of the Galilean—
The groves that were wont to be gray and glum—
And a sound goes forth to the dim Ægean,