Produced by Al Haines
LYRA FRIVOLA
BY
A. D. GODLEY
AUTHOR OF "VERSES TO ORDER."
METHUEN & CO.
36 ESSEX STREET, W.C.
LONDON
1900
Second Edition
Most of the pieces in this book have appeared in the St James's Gazette, the Oxford Magazine, or the National Observer. I have to thank the Proprietors of these papers for permission to republish.
A. D. G.
CONTENTS
AFTER HORACE THE JOURNALIST ABROAD VERNAL VERSES PENSÉES DE NOEL AD LECTIONEM SUAM RUBÁIYYÁT OF MODERATIONS LINES TO AN OLD FRIEND THE PARADISE OF LECTURERS A DIALOGUE ON ETHICS PEDAGOGY SONG FOR THE NAVY LEAGUE A DREAM THE SCHOOL of AGRICULTURE THE LAST STRAW THE 1713 AGAINST NEWNHAM QUADRIVIAD, ll. 1-51 MUSICAL DEGREES QUIETA MOVERE GRAECULUS ESURIENS THE ROAD TO RENOWN L'AFFAIRE (CHAPTER ONE) UNSELFISH DEVOTION THE ARREST "THE PLAN OF CAMPAIGN" THE PATRIOT'S "POME" MR MORLEY'S APOLOGY HONESTY REWARDED THE END OF IT A NEW DEPARTURE MULLIGAN ON THE AUSTRIAN PARLIAMENT BROKEN VOWS THE TRUE REMEDY UNITED IRELAND JUSTICE FOR PRIVATE MULVANEY
AFTER HORACE
What asks the Bard? He prays for nought But what the truly virtuous crave: That is, the things he plainly ought To have.
'Tis not for wealth, with all the shocks That vex distracted millionaires, Plagued by their fluctuating stocks And shares:
While plutocrats their millions new Expend upon each costly whim, A great deal less than theirs will do For him;
The simple incomes of the poor His meek poetic soul content: Say, L30,000 at four Per cent.!
His taste in residence is plain: No palaces his heart rejoice: A cottage in a lane (Park Lane For choice)—
Here be his days in quiet spent: Here let him meditate the Muse: Baronial Halls were only meant For Jews,
And lands that stretch with endless span From east to west, from south to north, Are often much more trouble than They're worth!
Let epicures who eat too much Become uncomfortably stout: Let gourmets feel th' approaching touch Of gout,—
The Bard subsists on simpler food: A dinner, not severely plain, A pint or so of really good Champagne—
Grant him but these, no care he'll take Though Laureates bask in Fortune's smile, Though Kiplings and Corellis make Their pile:
Contented with a scantier dole His humble Muse serenely jogs, Remote from scenes where authors roll Their logs:
Far from the madding crowd she lurks, And really cares no single jot Whether the public read her works Or not!
THE JOURNALIST ABROAD
When Parson, Doctor, Don,— In short, when all the nation Goes gaily off upon Its annual vacation, Their cares professional No more avail to bind them: They go at Pleasure's call And leave their trades behind them.
Like them, departs afar From England's fogs and vapours The literary star, The writer for the papers: But not, like them, at home Leaves he his calling's fetters: Nought can release him from The tyranny of Letters!
