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BALLADS

by William Makepeace Thackeray

CONTENTS

The Chronicle of the Drum. Part I Part II Abd-el-Kader at Toulon; or, The Caged Hawk The King of Brentford's Testament The White Squall Peg of Limavaddy May-Day Ode The Ballad of Bouillabaisse The Mahogany Tree The Yankee Volunteers The Pen and the Album Mrs. Katherine's Lantern Lucy's Birthday The Cane-Bottom'd Chair Piscator and Piscatrix The Rose upon my Balcony Ronsard to his Mistress At the Church Gate The Age of Wisdom Sorrows of Werther A Doe in the City The Last of May "Ah, Bleak and Barren was the Moor" Song of the Violet Fairy Days Pocahontas From Pocahontas

LOVE-SONGS MADE EASY:--

What makes my Heart to Thrill and Glow? The Ghazul, or, Oriental Love-Song:-- The Rocks The Merry Bard The Caïque My Nora To Mary Serenade The Minaret Bells Come to the Greenwood Tree

FIVE GERMAN DITTIES:--

A Tragic Story The Chaplet The King on the Tower On a very Old Woman A Credo

FOUR IMITATIONS OF BÉRANGER:--

Le Roi d'Yvetot The King of Yvetot The King of Brentford Le Grenier The Garret Roger Bontemps Jolly Jack

IMITATION OF HORACE:--

To his Serving Boy Ad Ministram

OLD FRIENDS WITH NEW FACES:--

The Knightly Guerdon The Almack's Adieu When the Gloom is on the Glen. The Red Flag Dear Jack Commanders of the Faithful When Moonlike ore the Hazure Seas King Canute Friar's Song Atra Cura Requiescat Lines upon my Sister's Portrait The Legend of St. Sophia of Kioff Titmarsh's Carmen Lilliense The Willow-Tree The Willow-Tree (another version)

LYRA HIBERNICA:--

The Pimlico Pavilion The Crystal Palace Molony's Lament Mr. Molony's Account of the Ball given to the Nepaulese Ambassador by the Peninsular and Oriental Company The Battle of Limerick Larry O'Toole The Rose of Flora The Last Irish Grievance

THE BALLADS OF POLICEMAN X.:--

The Wofle New Ballad of Jane Roney and Mary Brown The Three Christmas Waits Lines on a Late Hospicious Ewent The Ballad of Eliza Davis Damages, Two Hundred Pounds The Knight and the Lady Jacob Homnium's Hoss The Speculators A Woeful New Ballad of the Protestant Conspiracy to take the Pope's Life The Lamentable Ballad of the Foundling of Shoreditch The Organ Boy's Appeal

Little Billee The End of the Play Vanitas Vanitatum

BALLADS.

THE CHRONICLE OF THE DRUM.

PART I.

At Paris, hard by the Maine barriers, Whoever will choose to repair, Midst a dozen of wooden-legged warriors May haply fall in with old Pierre. On the sunshiny bench of a tavern He sits and he prates of old wars, And moistens his pipe of tobacco With a drink that is named after Mars.

The beer makes his tongue run the quicker, And as long as his tap never fails, Thus over his favorite liquor Old Peter will tell his old tales. Says he, "In my life's ninety summers Strange changes and chances I've seen,-- So here's to all gentlemen drummers That ever have thump'd on a skin.

"Brought up in the art military For four generations we are; My ancestors drumm'd for King Harry, The Huguenot lad of Navarre. And as each man in life has his station According as Fortune may fix, While Condé was waving the baton, My grandsire was trolling the sticks.

"Ah! those were the days for commanders! What glories my grandfather won, Ere bigots, and lackeys, and panders The fortunes of France had undone! In Germany, Flanders, and Holland,-- What foeman resisted us then? No; my grandsire was ever victorious, My grandsire and Monsieur Turenne.

"He died: and our noble battalions The jade fickle Fortune forsook; And at Blenheim, in spite of our valiance, The victory lay with Malbrook. The news it was brought to King Louis; Corbleu! how his Majesty swore When he heard they had taken my grandsire: And twelve thousand gentlemen more.

"At Namur, Ramillies, and Malplaquet Were we posted, on plain or in trench: Malbrook only need to attack it And away from him scamper'd we French. Cheer up! 'tis no use to be glum, boys,-- 'Tis written, since fighting begun, That sometimes we fight and we conquer, And sometimes we fight and we run.

"To fight and to run was our fate: Our fortune and fame had departed. And so perish'd Louis the Great,-- Old, lonely, and half broken-hearted. His coffin they pelted with mud, His body they tried to lay hands on; And so having buried King Louis They loyally served his great-grandson.


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