Classic Poetry Series William Topaz McGonagall - poems - Publication Date: 2004 Publisher: Poemhunter.com - The World's Poetry Archive William Topaz McGonagall(1830 - 1902) William Topaz McGonagall was born of rather poor Irish parents in Edinburgh, Scotland, in March 1825. In his nearly unreadable, rambling biographical notes1, one eventually learns that he sprang from a family of five children and that he worked with his father as a handloom weaver. His education appears to have been patchy, but, in his own words, 'William has been like the immortal Shakespeare he had learned more from nature than he ever learned at school'. The family settled in Dundee while William was still a boy, and he lived there for the rest of his life. He died in 1902. As a grown man, he continued to work in the family trade, and married one Jean King in 1846. At about this time he also began to participate in amateur theatrics, acting in Shakespearean drama at the Dundee theatre. The Muse of Poetry appears to have captured his imagination, if not his talent, in the 1870s, beginning with a paean to a new railway bridge over the Tay River at Dundee in 1877. By McGonagall's own account, the poem was '... received with eclat and [he] was pronounced by the Press the Poet Laureate of the Tay Bridge...'. And after that he never stopped. His first collection of Poetic Gems was published in 1878, and he published several more Collected Gems during his lifetime as well as many broadsheets. He also toured Scotland, England, and New York in the United States, giving public readings for which he charged admission. At these readings he would dress in full Scottish Highland costume. He is reported to have been a cult figure in his lifetime, although his audiences were often rather stormy with those in attendance given to catcalling. www.PoemHunter.com - The World's Poetry Archive 1 A Christmas Carol Welcome, sweet Christmas, blest be the morn That Christ our Saviour was born! Earth's Redeemer, to save us from all danger, And, as the Holy Record tells, born in a manger. Chorus -- Then ring, ring, Christmas bells, Till your sweet music o'er the kingdom swells, To warn the people to respect the morn That Christ their Saviour was born. The snow was on the ground when Christ was born, And the Virgin Mary His mother felt very forlorn As she lay in a horse's stall at a roadside inn, Till Christ our Saviour was born to free us from sin. Oh! think of the Virgin Mary as she lay In a lowly stable on a bed of hay, And angels watching O'er her till Christ was born, Therefore all the people should respect Christmas morn. The way to respect Christmas time Is not by drinking whisky or wine, But to sing praises to God on Christmas morn, The time that Jesus Christ His Son was born; Whom He sent into the world to save sinners from hell And by believing in Him in heaven we'll dwell; Then blest be the morn that Christ was born, Who can save us from hell, death, and scorn. Then he warned, and respect the Saviour dear, And treat with less respect the New Year, And respect always the blessed morn That Christ our Saviour was born. For each new morn to the Christian is dear, As well as the morn of the New Year, www.PoemHunter.com - The World's Poetry Archive 2 And he thanks God for the light of each new morn. Especially the morn that Christ was born. Therefore, good people, be warned in time, And on Christmas morn don't get drunk with wine But praise God above on Christmas morn, Who sent His Son to save us from hell and scorn. There the heavenly babe He lay In a stall among a lot of hay, While the Angel Host by Bethlehem Sang a beautiful and heavenly anthem. Christmas time ought to be held most dear, Much more so than the New Year, Because that's the time that Christ was born, Therefore respect Christmas morn. And let the rich be kind to the poor, And think of the hardships they do endure, Who are neither clothed nor fed, And Many without a blanket to their bed. William Topaz McGonagall www.PoemHunter.com - The World's Poetry Archive 3 A Descriptive Poem On The Silvery Tay Beautiful silvery Tay, With your landscapes, so lovely and gay, Along each side of your waters, to Perth all the way; No other river in the world has got scenery more fine, Only I am told the beautiful Rhine, Near to Wormit Bay, it seems very fine, Where the Railway Bridge is towering above its waters sublime, And the beautiful ship Mars, With her Juvenile Tare, Both lively and gay, Does carelessly lie By night and by day, In the beautiful Bay Of the silvery Tay. Beautiful, beautiful silvery Tay, Thy scenery is enchanting on a fine summer day, Near by Balnerino it is beautiful to behold, When the trees are in full bloom and the cornfields seems like gold - And nature's face seems gay, And the lambkins they do play, And the humming bee is on the wing, It is enough to make one sing, While they carelessly do stray, Along the beautiful banks of the silvery Tay, Beautiful silvery Tay, Rolling smoothly on your way, Near by Newport, as clear as the day, Thy scenery around is charming I'll be bound... And would make the heart of any one feel light and gay on a fine summer day, To view the beautiful scenery along the banks of the silvery Tay. William Topaz McGonagall www.PoemHunter.com - The World's Poetry Archive 4 A Humble Heroine 'Twas at the Seige of Matagarda, during the Peninsular War, That a Mrs Reston for courage outshone any man there by far; She was the wife of a Scottish soldier in Matagarda Port, And to attend to her husband she there did resort. 'Twas in the Spring of the year 1810, That General Sir Thomas Graham occupied Matagarda with 150 men; These consisted of a detachment from the Scots Brigade, And on that occasion they weren't in the least afraid. And Captain Maclaine of the 94th did the whole of them command, And the courage the men displayed was really grand; Because they held Matagarda for fifty-four days, Against o'erwhelming numbers of the French - therefore they are worthy of praise. The British were fighting on behalf of Spain, But if they fought on their behalf they didn't fight in vain; For they beat them manfully by land and sea, And from the shores of Spain they were forced to flee. Because Captain Maclaine set about repairing the old fort, So as to make it comfortable for his men to resort; And there he kept his men at work day by day, Filling sand-bags and stuffing them in the walls without delay. There was one woman in the fort during those trying dags, A Mrs Reston, who is worthy of great praise; She acted like a ministering angel to the soldiers while there, By helping them to fill sand-bags, it was her constant care. Mrs Reston behaved as fearlessly as any soldier in the garrison, And amongst the soldiers golden opinions she won, For her presence was everywhere amongst the men, And the service invaluable she rendered to them. Methinks I see that brave heroine carrying her child, Whilst the bullets were falling around her, enough to drive her wild; And bending over it to protect it from danger, www.PoemHunter.com - The World's Poetry Archive 5 Because to war's alarms it was a stranger. And while the shells shrieked around, and their fragments did scatter, She was serving the men at the guns with wine and water; And while the shot whistled around, her courage wasn't slack, Because to the soldiers she carried sand-bags on her back. A little drummer boy was told to fetch water from the well, But he was afraid because the bullets from the enemy around it fell; And the Doctor cried to the boy, Why are you standing there? But Mrs Reston said, Doctor, the bairn is feared, I do declare. And she said, Give me the pail, laddie, I'll fetch the water, Not fearing that the shot would her brains scatter; And without a moment's hesitation she took the pail, Whilst the shot whirred thick around her, yet her courage didn't fail. And to see that heroic woman the scene was most grand, Because as she drew the water a shot cut the rope in her hand; But she caught the pail with her hand dexterously, Oh! the scene was imposing end most beautiful to see. The British fought bravely, as they are always willing to do, Although their numbers were but few; So they kept up the cannonading with their artillery, And stood manfully at their guns against the enemy. And five times the flagstaff was shot away, And as often was it replaced without dismay; And the flag was fastened to an angle of the wall, And the British resolved to defend it whatever did befall. So the French were beaten and were glad to run, And the British for defeating them golden opinions have won Ah through brave Captain Maclaine and his heroes bold, Likewise Mrs Reston, whose name should be written in letters of gold.