Reminiscences of Rotherham
by G. Gummer, J.P.
« « prevThere be chosen men to canvass, The wisest in the Land;
At eventide by Albert’s side
Those chosen men do stand.
Evening and morn the chosen,
Have read their canvass o’er;
And Bibbs hath trembling asked them
What the fates hold in store.
And with one voice those chosen
Have their glad answer made;
Go forth to glory, Albert,
And Councillor be made!
Go, and return victorious!
And on Rotherham’s vacant walls
Placard a glorious triumph
For the triple golden balls.
Those gilded orbs thou bearest,
Full in the light of day;
Of old by Tuscan Princes
Were borne in many a fray;
And high on tossing standards,
Girt round with spear and shield,
Have proudly waved victorious
O’er many a bloody field.
Wherewith wan face and upturn’d eye,
Scowling defiance to the sky,
In ghastly heaps the dead did lie;
Grim dead, whose parted ghosts,
Slow flitting in the nether shade,
Invoked a curse on those who made
Of war a profit and a trade,
And sold their slaught’ring hosts,
And blazoned on the surcoat
Of gallant knight or squire,
Oft have they charged in battle’s front,
But ne’er did yet retire.
Then shalt thou dim their lustre,
In this more modern day;
Because now 'Uncles' use them
In quite a different way.
Because when now suspended
On sign instead of lance,
They tell the dweller under them
Small sums will oft advance!
Spurn thou all coward counsel,
Gaze on thy coat of arms;
And let the sight nerve thee to fight,
Reckless. of weak alarms.
Hoist thou on high the emblems
Of Medicis’ Royal Line;
And forward gallant Bombardier,
And in the Council shine.
PART TWO.
But when the cheery Bellman’s voice
Told dwellers in our town,
That Albert, though defeated once,
Had thrown the gauntlet down.
Then rose a gallant watchman.
Hight Taffinder by name.
Who swore that are such thing should be,
The vacant seat he’d claim.
With imprecations deep and strong
Loud, loud, did he exclaim,
If Bibbs do represent us.
We shall be much to blame.
Up, up, each sturdy burgess,
Up, up, my comrades stout,
Rouse, rouse, the Ward on ev’ry side,
Drive this invader out!
Right soon did trusty helpers
Quick answer to his cry;
From every side with eager feet,
To Abraham they hie.
Stout Jervis from the lofty house,
That, perched on Moorgate’s side,
Looks downward o’er the fertile plain,
Where Don’s dark stream doth glide.
Strong Arthur from the Building
O’er Rother’s flood that lowers,
Looming a storied mass on high,
Of weathercocks and towers;
And rosy Jack from Church Street,
With lusty ox and calf,
Disjointed, hang from flesh hooks,
Watched by his better.half. » next