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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=426240" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Vae Victis parody Gilles Menage Thomas Hood Faithless Nellie Gray</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Vae Victis</div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Good people all, with one accord<br>lament for David Wren, <br>who never wanted a good word –<br>from those his praise did pen.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He strove all of this House to please<br>with manners wondrous winning; <br>and never followed wicked ways –<br>except when he was sinning.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">At meals, in slacks and jackets neat, <br>with smile of monstrous size; <br>he sat up straight upon his seat –<br>for ladies, though, he’d rise.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His love was sought, the little wren, <br>by twenty birds and more; <br>where e’er he went they followed him<br>to Annesley’s shady shore.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So let us sigh, in sorrow sore, <br>for South House well may say; <br>had he but slaved in school some more, <br>he had not sobbed today.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">14 December 1969 University of Toronto, Victoria College</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Parody Gilles MENAGE - The Happy Man Oliver GOLDSMITH – Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog Thomas HOOD Faithless Nellie Gray and Sally Brown</div><div style="margin:10px 0">robi3_0002_mena1_0001 19691214</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Faithless Ben Simon</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Ben Simon was a broker bold<br>who’d turned his share of crashes, <br>the recent slump his stumps had bowled<br>with shares returned to ashes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then as they hammered him from ‘Change, <br>he stammered “with a spread<br>I might my spread keep, not exchange<br>my blue bloods, in the red! ”</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Head watch-dogs dogged his tracks before<br>he suddenly made tracks, <br>and headed south ahead of four<br>headlines in weekend tracts.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though contracts signed seemed so well heeled, -<br>the heel – but yet inside a<br>good deal of each deal he had wheeled<br>were bad contacts insider! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Although he swore an open book<br>each trade was ‘fore bear raid, <br>betrayed, he soon was brought to book<br>and in the dock arrayed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The moral of this tale, who knows? <br>Fools’ gold will e’er attract, <br>but details missed, or jealous foes<br>woe’s tales tell, ‘tis a fact.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>27 July 1991 </div><div style="margin:10px 0">robi3_0411_mena1_0001 19910724</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Parody Gilles MENAGE - The Happy Man Oliver GOLDSMITH – Elegy on the Glory of her Sex, Mrs. Blaize Thomas HOOD Faithless Nellie Gray and Sally Brown</div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>La Palisse now I wish to touch; <br>Droll air! if I can strike it, <br>I'm sure the song will please you much; <br>That is, if you should like it.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">La Pallisse was indeed, I grant, <br>Not used to any dainty<br>When he was born – but could not want, <br>As long as he had plenty.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Instructed with the greatest care, <br>He always was well bred, <br>And never used a hat to wear<br>But when 'twas on his head.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His temper was exceeding good, <br>Just of his father’s fashion; <br>And never quarrels broil’d his blood, <br>Except when in a passion.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His mind was on devotion bent; <br>He kept with care each high day, <br>And Holy Thursday always spent<br>The day before Good Friday.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He liked good claret very well, <br>I just presume to think it; <br>For ere its flavour he could tell<br>He thought it best to drink it.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Than doctors more he loved the cook, <br>Though food would make him gross, <br>And never any physic took<br>But when he took a dose.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O happy, happy is the swain<br>The ladies so adore; <br>For many followed in his train, <br>Whene’er he walk’d before.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bright as the sun his flowing hair<br>In golden ringlets shone; <br>And no one could with him compare, <br>If he had been alone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His talents I cannot rehearse, <br>But everyone allows, <br>That whatsoe’er he wrote in verse, <br>No one could call it prose.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His powerful logic would surprise, <br>Amuse, and much delight: <br>He proved that dimness of the eyes<br>Was hurtful to the sight.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They liked him much - so it appears<br>Most plainly - who preferred him; <br>And those did never want their ears<br>Who any time had heard him.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He was not always right, 'tis true, <br>And then he must be wrong; <br>But none had found it out, he knew, <br>If he had held his tongue.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He argued with precision nice, <br>The learnèd all declare; <br>And it was his decision wise, <br>No horse could be a mare.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He was not always right, ‘tis true, <br>And then he must be wrong; <br>But none had found it out, he knew, <br>If he had held his tongue.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Whene'er a tender tear he shed, <br>'Twas certain that he wept; <br>And he would lie awake in bed, <br>Unless, indeed, he slept.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In tilting everybody knew<br>His very high renown; <br>Yet no opponents he o'erthrew<br>But those that he knocked down.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>At last they smote him in the head –<br>What hereo ever fought all? <br>And when they saw that he was dead, <br>They knew the wound was mortal.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And when at last he lost his breath, <br>It closed his every strife; <br>For that sad day that seal’d his death, <br>Deprived him of his life.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gilles MENAGE 1613_1692 mena1_0001_mena1_0000<br>Translator Unknown sometimes in 9 verses only ‘amuse’ variation ‘amaze’<br>Parodied by Thomas HOOD – Ben Battle, Faithless Nellie Gray</div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">MENAGE Gilles 1613_1692 mena1_0001_mena1_0000 PFT_JMX An Elegy The Happy Man_La Pallisse now I wish to touch<br> <br>Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Good people all, of every sort, <br>Give ear unto my song; <br>And if you find it wondrous short, <br>It cannot hold you long.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In Islington there was a man<br>Of whom the world might say, <br>That still a godly race he ran— <br>Whene'er he went to pray.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A kind and gentle heart he had, <br>To comfort friends and foes; <br>The naked every day he clad— <br>When he put on his clothes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And in that town a dog was found, <br>As many dogs there be, <br>Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound, <br>And curs of low degree.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This dog and man at first were friends; <br>But when a pique began, <br>The dog, to gain some private ends, <br>Went mad, and bit the man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Around from all the neighbouring streets<br>The wond'ring neighbours ran, <br>And swore the dog had lost its wits<br>To bite so good a man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The wound it seemed both sore and sad<br>To every Christian eye; <br>And while they swore the dog was mad, <br>They swore the man would die.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But soon a wonder came to light<br>That showed the rogues they lied, — <br>The man recovered of the bite, <br>The dog it was that died! <br> <br>Oliver GOLDSMITH 1728_1774 gold1_0001_mena1_0001<br>Parody from the French Gilles Ménage Elegy - The Happy Man</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> <br>Elegy on the Glory of her Sex Mrs Mary Blaize </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Good people all, with one accord<br>Lament for Madam Blaize, <br>Who never wanted a good word, — <br>From those who spoke her praise.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The needy seldom passed her door, <br>And always found her kind; <br>She freely lent to all the poor, — <br>Who left a pledge behind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She strove the neighbourhood to please<br>With manners wondrous winning; <br>And never followed wicked ways, — <br>Unless when she was sinning.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">At church, in silks and satins new, <br>With hoop of monstrous size, <br>She never slumbered in her pew, — <br>But when she shut her eyes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her love was sought, I do aver, <br>By twenty beaux and more; <br>The king himself has followed her, — <br>When she has walked before.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But now her wealth and finery fled, <br>Her hangers-on cut short all; <br>The doctors found, when she was dead, — <br>Her last disorder mortal.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let us lament in sorrow sore, <br>For Kent Street well may say<br>That had she lived a twelvemonth more, — <br>She had not died today.  <br>Oliver GOLDSMITH 1728_1774 gold1_0003_mena1_0001<br>Parody from the French Gilles Ménage Elegy - The Happy Man </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> <br>Faithless Nellie Gray </div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ben Battle was a soldier bold, <br>And used to war's alarms; <br>But a cannon-ball took off his legs, <br>So he laid down his arms.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now as they bore him off the field, <br>Said he, 'Let others shoot; <br>For here I leave my second leg, <br>And the Forty-second Foot.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The army-surgeons made him limbs: <br>Said he, 'They're only pegs; <br>But there's as wooden members quite, <br>As represent my legs.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now Ben he loved a pretty maid, -<br>Her name was Nelly Gray; <br>So he went to pay her his devours, <br>When he devoured his pay.<br>But when he called on Nelly Gray, <br>She made him quite a scoff; <br>And when she saw his wooden legs, <br>Began to take them off.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O Nelly Gray! O Nelly Gray! '<br>Is this your love so warm? <br>The love that loves a scarlet coat<br>Should be a little more uniform.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Said she, ' I loved a soldier once, <br>For he was blithe and brave; <br>But I will never have a man<br>With both legs in the grave</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Before you had those timber toes<br>Your love I did allow; <br>But then, you know, you stand upon<br>Another footing now.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O Nelly Gray! O Nelly Gray! <br>For all your jeering speeches, <br>At duty's call I left my legs<br>In Badajos's breaches.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Why, then, ' said she, 'you've lost the feet<br>Of legs in war's alarms, <br>And now you cannot wear your shoes<br>Upon your feats of arms! '</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O false and fickle Nelly Gray! <br>I know why you refuse: <br>Though I've no feet, some other man<br>Is standing in my shoes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I wish I ne'er had seen your face; <br>But, now, a long farewell! <br>For you will be my death' – alas! <br>You will not be my Nell! '</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now when he went from Nelly Gray<br>His heart so heavy got, <br>And life was such a burden grown, <br>It made him take a knot.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So round his melancholy neck<br>A rope he did intwine, <br>And, for his second time in life, <br>Enlisted in the Line.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">One end he tied around a beam, <br>And then removed his pegs; <br>And, as his legs were off - of course<br>He soon was off his legs.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And there he hung till he was dead<br>As any nail in town; <br>For, though distress had cut him up, <br>It could not cut him down.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A dozen men sat on his corpse, <br>To find out why he died, - <br>And they buried Ben in four cross-roads<br>With a stake in his inside.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Thomas Hood Parody from the French Gilles Ménage Elegy - The Happy Man and Oliver GOLDSMITH – Elegy on the Glory of her Sex, Mrs. Blaize </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> <br>Faithless Sally Brown</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Young Ben he was a nice young man, <br>A carpenter by trade; <br>And he fell in love with Sally Brown, <br>That was a lady's maid.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But as they fetched a walk one day, <br>They met a press-gang crew; <br>And Sally did faint away, <br>Whilst Ben he was brought to.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Boatswain swore with wicked words, <br>Enough to shock a saint, <br>That though she did seem in a fit, <br>'Twas nothing but a feint.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Come, girl, ' said he, 'hold up you head, <br>He'll be as good as me; <br>For when your swain is in our boat, <br>A boatswain he will be.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So when they'd made their game of her, <br>And taken off her elf, <br>She roused, and found she only was <br>A coming to herself.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'And is he gone, and is he gone! ' <br>She cried, and wept outright: <br>'Then I will to the water side, <br>And see him out of sight.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A waterman came up to her, <br>'Now, young woman, ' said he, <br>'If you weep on so, you will make <br>Eye-water in the sea.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Alas! they've taken my beau Ben <br>To sail with old Benbow; ' <br>And her woe began to run afresh, <br>As if she'd said Gee woe! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Says he, 'They've only taken him <br>To the Tender ship, you see; ' <br>'To the Tender ship, ' cried Sally Brown, <br>'What a hard-ship that must be! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Oh! would I were a mermaid now, <br>For then I'd follow him; <br>But oh! I'm not a fish-woman, <br>And so I cannot swim.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Alas! I was not born beneath <br>The Virgin and the Scales, <br>So I must curse my cruel stars, <br>And walk about in Wales.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now Ben had sailed to many a place <br>That's underneath the world; <br>But in two years the ship came home, <br>And all her sails were furled.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But when he called on Sally Brown, <br>To see how she went on, <br>He found she'd got another Ben, <br>Whose Christian name was John.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O Sally Brown, O Sally Brown, <br>How could you serve me so? <br>I've met with many a breeze before, <br>But never such a blow.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then, reading on his 'bacco box, <br>He heaved a bitter sigh, <br>And then began to eye his pipe, <br>And then to pipe his eye.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And then he tried to sing 'All's Well, ' <br>But could not though he tried: <br>His head was turned, and so he chewed <br>His pigtail till he died.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His death which happened in his berth, <br>At forty-odd befell: <br>They went and told the sexton, and <br>The sexton toll'd the bell. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thomas Hood 1799_1845 hood1_0005_mena1_0001 Parody Gilles MENAGE - The Happy Man Oliver GOLDSMITH – Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> <br>The Cold-Water Man</div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">It was an honest fisherman, <br>I knew him passing well, -<br>And he lived by a little pond, <br>Within a little dell.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A grave and quiet man was he, <br>Who loved his book and rod, -<br>So even ran his line of life, <br>His neighbours thought it odd.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For science and for books, he said, <br>He never had a wish, -<br>No school to him was worth a fig, <br>Except a school of fish.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He ne’er aspired to rank or wealth, <br>Nor cared about a nae, -<br>For though much famed for fish was he, <br>He never fished for fame.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let others bend their necks at sight<br>Of Fashion’s gilded wheels, <br>He ne’er had learned the art to “bob”<br>for anything but eels.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A cunning fisherman was he, <br>His angles all were right; <br>The smallest nibble at his bait<br>Was sure to prove “a bite.”</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>John Godfrey SAXE 1816_1887 <br>Parody from the French Gilles Ménage Elegy - The Happy Man and Oliver GOLDSMITH – Elegy on the Glory of her Sex, Mrs. Blaize Thomas HOOD Faithless Nellie Gray and Sally Brown</div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"> <br>Pygmalion </div><div style="margin:10px 0">There was an ancient classic swell, <br>An interesting alien, <br>His kinsfolk called him “Piggy”, but<br>His full name was Pygmalion. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Like many a high artistic Greek, <br>He got his bread by chiselling; <br>I don’t mean running into debt <br>and then by moonlight mizzling.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I don’t mean billiars, cards or dice, <br>At which the sharper garbles<br>Some spooney flat – the only game<br>Pymalion played was marbles.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He chiselled marble into forms<br>Defying competition; <br>And won no end of Kudos at<br>Each R.A. Exhibition.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">One eve, he’d worked the whole day long, <br>And felt used up and wearied; <br>His subject was a Grecian Bend, <br>Or Lady of the Period.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now Piggy was a lonely man, <br>Since he had never mated; <br>But always kept a celibate, <br>Although so celebrated.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So when he laid his chisel down<br>And saw his fair creation, <br>He said, - as critics often say –<br>“She lacks but animation! ”</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And straightway Love and Phantasy, <br>Like disobedient vassals, <br>Heedless of Reason, in his brain<br>Wen building Spanish castles.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He thought it would be very nice<br>Each morning could he see<br>Presiding at his breakfast-board<br>Just such a Mrs. P.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He pictured her at parties, fêtes, <br>In pinery or grapery, <br>Looking as she was looking then –<br>Plus just a little drapery.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He bent on her a steadfast gaze<br>(Mesmeric ‘twas, I’m thinking) <br>And straight her sympathetic lids<br>Moved like – yes, just like – winking.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She breathed – she lived – she came to him, <br>And he embraced her quick; <br>“You are not stone! ” he fondly cried –<br>“You are a little brick! ”</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His vision thus was realised: <br>Next morning he was able<br>To see that partner exquisite<br>Presiding at his table.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He ordered in no end of ‘things”, <br>He thought it but his duty; <br>Since, even for that antique age, <br>Too ‘unadorned’ her beauty.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And knowing well that spinsters prim<br>Would make her case a handle<br>For rude remark, he put a stop<br>Effectually to scandal.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For shortly in the Morning Post<br>This won the Monde’s regards –<br>“Mr. Pygmalion, R.A., -<br>Married Miss Stone. No cards.”</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And many an artist, since that day, <br>Has found his sighs love-laden<br>Warm into animated clay<br>The coldest ‘marble maiden.”</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Author Unknown The Hornet c.1890 PSho1_0005_mena1_0001 <br>Parody after Gilles Ménage Elegy - The Happy Man, Oliver GOLDSMITH – Elegy on a Mad Dog, Thomas HOOD Faithless Nellie Gray </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> <br>Elegy</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“Great Britain makes a difficult sacrifice of principle by promising to bring the question of the recognition of the sovereignty of Ethiopia before the League of Nations” <br>									The Times 18 April 1938</div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Good People all of every kind, <br>Unto my song give ear, <br>Of how the nations late combined<br>To make aggressors fear, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of eight-and-fifty sheep-dogs, bound<br>No more to bark or bite, <br>And tainted wethers to impound<br>With full collective might.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A wolf in sheepskin was disclosed, <br>A lurking beast of prey.<br>The league his brigandage opposed, <br>A mouton enragé –</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And more in sorrow than in ire<br>Put on the sanctions screw<br>To make the peacebreakers retire, <br>As they were sworn to do.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The killer ravaged, undismayed<br>By their coercive thrust, <br>The justice of his force outweighed<br>The forces of the just.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Their logic was confounded quite<br>As fact with theory vied, <br>The wolf recovered from the bite; <br>The League it was that died.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">KATZIN Olga Miller 1896_1987<br>Parody after Gilles Ménage Elegy - The Happy Man, Oliver GOLDSMITH – Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog, Thomas HOOD Faithless Nellie Gray</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> <br>To Add<br>BENSON Gerard 1931_20xx bens2_0004_mena1_0001 PWX_DXX Ben Barley_Ben Barley was a barman stout</div><div style="margin:10px 0">FAGG Martin fagg1_0003_mena1_0001 PWX_DXX Elegy on Thomas Hood_O spare a tear for poor Tom Hood</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Jonathan+Robin">Jonathan Robin</a><div class=q>
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Good people all, with one accord
lament for David Wren, 
who never wanted a good word –
from those his praise did pen.

He strove all of this House to please
with manners wondrous winning; 
and never followed wicked ways –
exc..."></div>
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