A Change of Style?

[Kingetter]

Here's a combination I find really hard to beat.

Naturally, without having read Part 1, Part 2 is 'lost'.

Part 1 - “How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix”

Robert Browning (1812–89)


I SPRANG to the stirrup, and Joris, and he;
I gallop’d, Dirck gallop’d, we gallop’d all three;
“Good speed !” cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew;
“Speed!” echoed the wall to us galloping through;
Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest, 5
And into the midnight we gallop’d abreast.

Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace
Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place;
I turn’d in my saddle and made its girths tight,
Then shorten’d each stirrup, and set the pique right, 10
Rebuckled the cheek-strap, chain’d slacker the bit,
Nor gallop’d less steadily Roland a whit.

’T was moonset at starting; but while we drew near
Lokeren, the cocks crew and twilight dawn’d clear;
At Boom, a great yellow star came out to see; 15
At Düffeld, ’t was morning as plain as could be;
And from Mechelm church-steeple we heard the half chime,
So, Joris broke silence with, “Yet there is time!”

At Aershot, up leap’d of a sudden the sun,
And against him the cattle stood black every one, 20
To state thro’ the mist at us galloping past,
And I saw my stout galloper Roland at last,
With resolute shoulders, each butting away
The haze, as some bluff river headland its spray:

And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent back 25
For my voice, and the other prick’d out on his track;
And one eye’s black intelligence,—ever that glance
O’er its white edge at me, his own master, askance!
And the thick heavy spume-flakes which aye and anon
His fierce lips shook upwards in galloping on. 30

By Hasselt, Dirck groan’d; and cried Joris “Stay spur!
Your Roos gallop’d bravely, the fault’s not in her,
We ’ll remember at Aix”—for one heard the quick wheeze
Of her chest, saw the stretch’d neck and staggering knees,
And sunk tail, and horrible heave of the flank, 35
As down on her haunches she shudder’d and sank.

So, we were left galloping, Joris and I,
Past Looz and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky;
The broad sun above laugh’d a pitiless laugh,
’Neath our feet broke the brittle bright stubble like chaff; 40
Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white,
And “Gallop,” gasped Joris, “for Aix is in sight!

“How they ’ll greet us!”—and all in a moment his roan
Roll’d neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone;
And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight 45
Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate,
With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim,
And with circles of red for his eye-sockets’ rim.

Then I cast loose my buffcoat, each holster let fall,
Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt and all, 50
Stood up in the stirrup, lean’d, patted his ear,
Call’d my Roland his pet name, my horse without peer;
Clapp’d my hands, laugh’d and sang, any noise, bad or good,
Till at length into Aix Roland gallop’d and stood.

And all I remember is, friends flocking round 55
As I sat with his head ’twixt my knees on the ground;
And no voice but was praising this Roland of mine,
As I pour’d down his throat our last measure of wine,
Which (the burgesses voted by common consent)
Was no more than his due who brought good news from Ghent. 60


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Part 2 - "HOW I BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS FROM AIX TO GHENT (OR VICE VERSA)"

RJ Yeatman & W C Sellar

I sprang to the rollocks and Jorrocks and me
And I galloped, you galloped, we galloped all three...
Not a word to each other; we kept changing place,
Neck to neck, back to front, ear to ear, face to face;
And we yelled once or twice, when we heard a clock chime,
'Would you kindly oblige us, Is that the right time?'
As I galloped, you galloped, we galloped, ye galloped they too have galloped; let us trot.

I unsaddled the saddled, unbuckled the bit,
Unshackled the bridle (the thing didn't fit)
And ungalloped, ungalloped, ungalloped, ungalloped a bit.
Then I cast off my bluff-coat, let my bowler hat fall,
Took off both my boots and my trousers and all -
Drank off my stirrup-cup, felt a bit tight,
And unbridled the saddle, it still wasn't right.

Then all I remember is, things reeling round
As I sat with my head 'twixt my knees on the ground -
For imagine my shame when asked what I meant
And I had to confess that I'd been, gone and went
And forgotten the news I was bringing to Ghent,
Though I'd galloped and galloped and galloped and galloped and galloped
And galloped and galloped and galloped. (Had I not would I have been galloped?)

ENVOI
So, I sprang to a taxi and shouted 'To Aix!'
And he blew on his horn and he threw off his brakes,
And all the way back till my money was spent
We rattled and rattled and rattled and rattled and rattled
And rattled and rattled -
And eventually sent a telegram.

[Kenn]

Brilliant, puts a whole new twist to what we learnt at school, now may be they should teach alternative poetry!

[Kingetter]

Brilliant, puts a whole new twist to what we learnt at school, now may be they should teach alternative poetry!

"1066 and all that" got me hooked on those two writers. Many years later, I was at a Writers Group Meeting and a member introduced us to the above - didn't stop laughing for quite some time, as he was asked to read it again twice!
You can't truly appreciate it without some knowledge of the 'original' event of course.

[Kingetter]

I was writing a sonnet tomorrow
In my best copperplate scrawl,
Though my pencil ran out of ink.
So I filled it up from a passing squid
Who's only available colour was black
Though by the end you'll see it is re(a)d.

[Kingetter]

We probably have all read these -

I went to the pictures tomorrow,
I took a front seat at the back.
I fell from the pit to the gallery,
And broke a front bone in my back.
A lady she gave me some chocolate,
I ate it and gave it her back.
I phoned for a taxi and walked it,
And that’s why I never came back.


One Night, Upon a Stair,
I saw a man who wasn’t there.
He wasn’t there again today,
I do so wish he’d go away.


Solomon Grundy, born on Monday,
Christened on Tuesday,
Married on Wednesday,
Took ill on Thursday,
Worse on Friday,
Died on Saturday,
Buried on Sunday,
And that was the end of Solomon Grundy.