On our way back to Slough they all got out to see Stoke Pogies Church,
where some great Poet was buried long long ago, who had wrote a most
lovely Poem there, all about what could be seen from the Churchyard
of an evening, and one of the party said, that the sperrit of the
bewtifool seen and of the luvly Poem was so strong upon him, that,
if they woud stand round the Toom, he woud try to recite some of its
sweetest lines, and he did so, and I heard one on 'em say, as we was
a driving back, that more than one among them had his eyes filled with
plessant tears as he lissened. Ah, it isn't for a pore Waiter like me
to write on these matters, but I hopes as I don't offend not anybody
when I says, that praps if jest a leetle more pains was taken for to
make us pore fellers understand, and feel, and share in the rapshur as
such poems seems to inspire in our betters, it might help to smooth,
if not to shorten, the long dreary road as lies between the Hignorant
and the Heddicated.
ROBERT.
* * * * *
--> NOTICE.--Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS.
Pages:
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66