Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, POSTHUMOUS TALES: TALE 12. THE BROTHER BURGESSES, by GEORGE CRABBE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

POSTHUMOUS TALES: TALE 12. THE BROTHER BURGESSES, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Two busy brothers in our place reside
Last Line: Within one tomb, beneath one stone, they rest!
Subject(s): Brothers; Half-brothers


I

TWO busy BROTHERS in our place reside,
And wealthy each, his party's boast and pride;
Sons of one father, of two mothers born,
They hold each other in true party-scorn.
JAMES is the one who for the people fights,
The sturdy champion of their dubious rights;
Merchant and seaman rough, but not the less
Keen in pursuit of his own happiness;
And what his happiness? -- To see his store
Of wealth increase, till Mammon groans, 'No more!'
JAMES goes to church -- because his father went,
But does not hide his leaning to dissent;
Reasons for this, whoe'er may frown, he'll speak --
Yet the old pew receives him once a week.
CHARLES is a churchman, and has all the zeal
That a strong member of his church can feel;
A loyal subject is the name he seeks;
He of 'his King and Country' proudly speaks:
He says, his brother and a rebel-crew,
Minded like him, the nation would undo,
If they had power, or were esteem'd enough
Of those who had, to bring their plans to proof.
JAMES answers sharply -- 'I will never place
My hopes upon a Lordship or a Grace!
To some great man you bow, to greater he,
Who to the greatest bends his supple knee,
That so the manna from the head may drop,
And at the lowest of the kneelers stop.
Lords call you loyal, and on them you call
To spare you something from our plunder'd all:
If tricks like these to slaves can treasure bring,
Slaves well may shout them hoarse for "Church and King!"'
'Brother!' says Charles, -- 'yet brother is a name
I own with pity, and I speak with shame, --
One of these days you'll surely lead a mob,
And then the hangman will conclude the job.'
'And would you, Charles, in that unlucky case,
Beg for his life whose death would bring disgrace
On you, and all the loyal of our race?
Your worth would surely from the halter bring
One neck, and I a patriot then might sing --
A brother patriot I -- God save our noble king.'
'James!' said the graver man, in manner grave --
'Your neck I could not, I your soul would save;
Oh! ere that day, alas, too likely! come,
I would prepare your mind to meet your doom,
That then the priest, who prays with that bad race
Of men, may find you not devoid of grace.'
These are the men who, from their seats above,
Hear frequent sermons on fraternal love;
Nay, each approves, and answers -- 'Very true!
Brother would heed it, were he not a Jew.'

II

P. READ I aright? beneath this stately stone
THE BROTHERS rest in peace, their grave is one!
What friend, what fortune interfered, that they
Take their long sleep together, clay with clay?
How came it thus? --
F. It was their own request,
By both repeated, that they thus might rest.
P. 'Tis well! Did friends at length the pair unite?
Or was it done because the deed was right?
Did the cool spirit of enfeebling age
Chill the warm blood, and calm the party rage,
And kindly lead them, in their closing day,
To put their animosity away,
Incline their hearts to live in love and peace,
And bid the ferment in each bosom cease?
F. Rich men have runners, who will to and fro
In search of food for their amusement go;
Who watch their spirits, and with tales of grief
Yield to their melancholy minds relief;
Who of their foes will each mishap relate,
And of their friends the fall or failings state.
One of this breed -- the Jackall who supplied
Our Burgess Charles with food for spleen and pride --
Before he utter'd what his memory brought,
On its effect, in doubtful matters, thought,
Lest he, perchance, in his intent might trip,
Or a strange fact might indiscreetly slip; --
But he one morning had a tale to bring,
And felt full sure he need not weigh the thing;
That must be welcome! With a smiling face
He watch'd th' accustom'd nod, and took his place.
'Well! you have news -- I see it -- Good, my friend,
No preface, Peter. Speak, man, I attend.'
'Then, sir, I'm told, nay, 'tis beyond dispute,
Our Burgess James is routed horse and foot;
He'll not be seen; a clerk for him appears,
And their precautions testify their fears;
Before the week be ended you shall see,
That our famed patriot will a bankrupt be.'
'Will he by -- --! No, I will not be profane,
But James a bankrupt! Boy, my hat and cane.
No! he'll refuse my offers -- Let me think!
So would I his: here, give me pen and ink.
There! that will do. -- What! let my father's son,
My brother, want, and I -- away! and run,
Run as for life, and then return -- but stay
To take his message -- now, away, away!'
The pride of James was shaken as he read --
The Brothers met -- the angry spirit fled:
Few words were needed -- in the look of each
There was a language words can never reach;
But when they took each other's hand, and press'd,
Subsiding tumult sank to endless rest;
Nor party wrath with quick affection strove,
Drown'd in the tears of reconciling love.
Affairs confused, and business at a stand,
Were soon set right by Charles's powerful hand;
The rudest mind in this rude place enjoy'd
The pleasing thought of enmity destroy'd,
And so destroy'd, that neither spite nor spleen,
Nor peevish look from that blest hour were seen;
Yet each his party and his spirit kept,
Though all the harsh and angry passions slept.
P. And they too sleep! and, at their joint request,
Within one tomb, beneath one stone, they rest!






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