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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=396909" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Old Chartist</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Whate'er I be, old England is my dam! <br>So there's my answer to the judges, clear. <br>I'm nothing of a fox, nor of a lamb; <br>I don't know how to bleat nor how to leer: <br>I'm for the nation! <br>That's why you see me by the wayside here, <br>Returning home from transportation. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">II </div><div style="margin:10px 0">It's Summer in her bath this morn, I think. <br>I'm fresh as dew, and chirpy as the birds: <br>And just for joy to see old England wink <br>Thro' leaves again, I could harangue the herds: <br>Isn't it something <br>To speak out like a man when you've got words, <br>And prove you're not a stupid dumb thing? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">III </div><div style="margin:10px 0">They shipp'd me of for it; I'm here again. <br>Old England is my dam, whate'er I be! <br>Says I, I'll tramp it home, and see the grain: <br>If you see well, you're king of what you see: <br>Eyesight is having, <br>If you're not given, I said, to gluttony. <br>Such talk to ignorance sounds as raving. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">IV </div><div style="margin:10px 0">You dear old brook, that from his Grace's park <br>Come bounding! on you run near my old town: <br>My lord can't lock the water; nor the lark, <br>Unless he kills him, can my lord keep down. <br>Up, is the song-note! <br>I've tried it, too:- for comfort and renown, <br>I rather pitch'd upon the wrong note. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">V </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'm not ashamed: Not beaten's still my boast: <br>Again I'll rouse the people up to strike. <br>But home's where different politics jar most. <br>Respectability the women like. <br>This form, or that form, - <br>The Government may be hungry pike, <br>But don't you mount a Chartist platform! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">VI </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Well, well! Not beaten-spite of them, I shout; <br>And my estate is suffering for the Cause. - <br>No,-what is yon brown water-rat about, <br>Who washes his old poll with busy paws? <br>What does he mean by't? <br>It's like defying all our natural laws, <br>For him to hope that he'll get clean by't. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">VII </div><div style="margin:10px 0">His seat is on a mud-bank, and his trade <br>Is dirt:- he's quite contemptible; and yet <br>The fellow's all as anxious as a maid <br>To show a decent dress, and dry the wet. <br>Now it's his whisker, <br>And now his nose, and ear: he seems to get <br>Each moment at the motion brisker! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">VIII </div><div style="margin:10px 0">To see him squat like little chaps at school, <br>I could let fly a laugh with all my might. <br>He peers, hangs both his fore-paws:- bless that fool, <br>He's bobbing at his frill now!-what a sight! <br>Licking the dish up, <br>As if he thought to pass from black to white, <br>Like parson into lawny bishop. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">IX </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The elms and yellow reed-flags in the sun, <br>Look on quite grave:- the sunlight flecks his side; <br>And links of bindweed-flowers round him run, <br>And shine up doubled with him in the tide. <br>I'M nearly splitting, <br>But nature seems like seconding his pride, <br>And thinks that his behaviour's fitting. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">X </div><div style="margin:10px 0">That isle o' mud looks baking dry with gold. <br>His needle-muzzle still works out and in. <br>It really is a wonder to behold, <br>And makes me feel the bristles of my chin. <br>Judged by appearance, <br>I fancy of the two I'm nearer Sin, <br>And might as well commence a clearance. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">XI </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And that's what my fine daughter said:- she meant: <br>Pray, hold your tongue, and wear a Sunday face. <br>Her husband, the young linendraper, spent <br>Much argument thereon:- I'm their disgrace. <br>Bother the couple! <br>I feel superior to a chap whose place <br>Commands him to be neat and supple. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">XII </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But if I go and say to my old hen: <br>I'll mend the gentry's boots, and keep discreet, <br>Until they grow TOO violent,-why, then, <br>A warmer welcome I might chance to meet: <br>Warmer and better. <br>And if she fancies her old cock is beat, <br>And drops upon her knees-so let her! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">XIII </div><div style="margin:10px 0">She suffered for me:- women, you'll observe, <br>Don't suffer for a Cause, but for a man. <br>When I was in the dock she show'd her nerve: <br>I saw beneath her shawl my old tea-can <br>Trembling . . . she brought it <br>To screw me for my work: she loath'd my plan, <br>And therefore doubly kind I thought it. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">XIV </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I've never lost the taste of that same tea: <br>That liquor on my logic floats like oil, <br>When I state facts, and fellows disagree. <br>For human creatures all are in a coil; <br>All may want pardon. <br>I see a day when every pot will boil <br>Harmonious in one great Tea-garden! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">XV </div><div style="margin:10px 0">We wait the setting of the Dandy's day, <br>Before that time!-He's furbishing his dress, - <br>He WILL be ready for it!-and I say, <br>That yon old dandy rat amid the cress, - <br>Thanks to hard labour! - <br>If cleanliness is next to godliness, <br>The old fat fellow's heaven's neighbour! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">XVI </div><div style="margin:10px 0">You teach me a fine lesson, my old boy! <br>I've looked on my superiors far too long, <br>And small has been my profit as my joy. <br>You've done the right while I've denounced the wrong. <br>Prosper me later! <br>Like you I will despise the sniggering throng, <br>And please myself and my Creator. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">XVII </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'll bring the linendraper and his wife <br>Some day to see you; taking off my hat. <br>Should they ask why, I'll answer: in my life <br>I never found so true a democrat. <br>Base occupation <br>Can't rob you of your own esteem, old rat! <br>I'll preach you to the British nation.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=George+Meredith">George Meredith</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=396909" data-title="The Old Chartist de George Meredith" data-description="I 

Whate'er I be, old England is my dam! 
So there's my answer to the judges, clear. 
I'm nothing of a fox, nor of a lamb; 
I don't know how to bleat nor how to leer: 
I'm for the nation! 
That's why you see me by the wayside here, 
Returning hom..."></div>
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