Nocturnal Sketch

Blank Verse in Rhyme EVEN is come; and from the dark Park, hark, The signal of the setting sun—one gun! And six is sounding from the chime, prime time To go and see the Drury-Lane Dane slain,— Or hear Othello’s jealous doubt spout out,— Or Macbeth raving at that shade-made blade, Denying to his frantic clutch much touch; Or else to see Ducrow with wide stride ride Four horses as no other man can span; Or in the small Olympic pit sit split Laughing at Liston, while you quiz his phiz. Anon Night comes, and with her wings brings things Such as, with his poetic tongue, Young sung; The gas upblazes with its bright white light, And paralytic watchmen prowl, howl, growl About the streets, and take up Pall-Mall Sal, Who, hasting to her nightly jobs, robs fobs. Now thieves to enter for your cash, smash, crash, Past drowsy Charley, in a deep sleep, creep, But, frightened by Policeman B. 3, flee, And while they ’re going, whisper low, “No go!” Now puss, when folks are in their beds, treads leads, And sleepers, waking, grumble, “Drat that cat!” Who in the gutter caterwauls, squalls, mauls Some feline foe, and screams in shrill ill-will. Now Bulls of Bashan, of a prize size, rise In childish dreams, and with a roar gore poor Georgy, or Charley, or Billy, willy-nilly;— But Nursemaid in a nightmare rest, chest-pressed, Dreameth of one of her old flames, James Games, And that she hears—what faith is man’s!—Ann’s banns And his, from Reverend Mr. Rice, twice, thrice; White ribbons flourish, and a stout shout out, That upward goes, shows Rose knows those bows’ woes!