to a bad rider.

i.

why, mr. rider, why

your nag so ill indorse, man?

to make observers cry,

you’re mounted, but no horseman?

[pg 352]

ii.

with elbows out so far,

this thought you can’t debar me—

though no dragoon— hussar—

you’re surely of the army!

iii.

i hope to turn m.p.

you have not any notion,

so awkward you would be

at “seconding a motion!”

out at elbows.

my son and heir.

i.

my mother bids me bind my heir,

but not the trade where i should bind;

to place a boy—the how and where—

it is the plague of parent-kind!

[pg 353]

ii.

she does not hint the slightest plan,

nor what indentures to endorse;

whether to bind him to a man,—

or, like mazeppa, to a horse.

son and hair.

iii.

what line to choose of likely rise,

to something in the stocks at last,—

“fast bind, fast find,” the proverb cries,

i find i cannot bind so fast!

iv.

a statesman james can never be;

a tailor?—there i only learn

his chief concern is cloth, and he

is always cutting his concern.

[pg 354]

v.

a seedsman?—i’d not have him so;

a grocer’s plum might disappoint;

a butcher?—no, not that—although

i hear “the times are out of joint!”

vi.

too many of all trades there be,

like pedlars, each has such a pack,

a merchant selling coals?—we see

the buyer send to cellar back.

vii.

a hardware dealer?—that might please,

but if his trade’s foundation leans

on spikes and nails, he won’t have ease

when he retires upon his means.

viii.

a soldier?—there he has not nerves

a sailor seldom lays up pelf:

a baker?—no, a baker serves

his customer before himself.

ix.

dresser of hair?—that’s not the sort;

a joiner jars with his desire—

a churchman?—james is very short,

and cannot to a church aspire.

x.

a lawyer?—that’s a hardish term!

a publisher might give him ease,

if he could into longman’s firm

just plunge at once “in medias rees.”

[pg 355]

xi.

a shop for pot, and pan, and cup,

such brittle stock i can’t advise;

a builder running houses up,

their gains are stories—may be lies!

xii.

a coppersmith i can’t endure—

nor petty usher a, b, c-ing;

a publican no father sure,

would be the author of his being!

xiii.

a paper-maker?—come he must

to rags before he sells a sheet—

a miller?—all his toil is just

to make a meal—he does not eat.

xiv.

a currier?—that by favour goes—

a chandler gives me great misgiving—

an undertaker?—one of those

that do not hope to get their living!

xv.

three golden balls?—i like them not;

an auctioneer i never did—

the victim of a slavish lot,

obliged to do as he is bid!

xvi.

a broker watching fall and rise

of stock?—i’d rather deal in stone,—

a printer?—there his toils comprise

another’s work beside his own.

[pg 356]

xvii.

a cooper?—neither i nor jem

have any taste or turn for that,—

a fish retailer?—but with him,

one part of trade is always flat.

the family library.

xviii.

a painter?—long he would not live,—

an artist’s a precarious craft—

in trade apothecaries give,

but very seldom take, a draught.

[pg 357]

xix.

a glazier?—what if he should smash!

a crispin he shall not be made—

a grazier may be losing cash,

although he drives “a roaring trade.”

xx.

well, something must be done! to look

on all my little works around—

james is too big a boy, like book,

to leave upon the shelf unbound.

xxi.

but what to do?—my temples ache

from evening’s dew till morning’s pearl,

what course to take my boy to make—

oh could i make my boy—a girl!