Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ODE TO A COUNTRY HOYDEN, by JOHN WOLCOTT


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ODE TO A COUNTRY HOYDEN, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Dear dolly, stay thy scampering joints one minute
Last Line: Clip thy wild tongue, and tie thee to the table.
Alternate Author Name(s): Pindar, Peter; Wolcot, John
Subject(s): Girls


DEAR Dolly, stay thy scampering joints one minute,
And let me ask thee, mad-cap girl, a question—
Somewhat of consequence there may be in it,
That, probably, may'nt suit thine high digestion.

Pray what's the meaning of the present glee?
To ride a nannygoat, or ass, or pig?
Or mount an ox, or ride an apple-tree,
And on the dancing limb enjoy a jig?

Perhaps thou art infected with an itch
To plague a poor old crone, baptised a witch;
To smoke her in her hovel—kill her cats,
Or look her in and rob her garden's peas,
Kick down the lame old granny's hive of bees,
And break her windows in, with stones and bats.

Perchance, to rob an orchard thou may'st long,
Or neighbour's hen's-nest of its eggs, or young;
Nay, steal the mother-hen to boot;
Perchance thou hasten'st, fond of vulgar joys,
To tumble on the haycocks with the boys,
And let them take, at will, the sweet salute.

Thou makest a long face, and answer'st thus—
'Lord, then about a trifle what a fuss!
As though a body might not ride a pig,
Or nannygoat indeed, or ox, good me!
Or our old Neddy, or an apple-tree,
Just for one's health to have a little jig!

'Or where's the mighty harm, upon my word,
In taking a few eggs, or chicks, or hen?
The farmers can't be ruined by't, good Lord!
Papa says that they're all substantial men.

'Or where's the harm to ride upon a gate?
To snub one so, indeed, at such a rate!
I've tumbled from the trees upon the stones,
And never broke, in all my life, my bones:
See, sir, I have not one black spot about me!
'Tis cruel, then, for nothing, thus to flout me.

'Or where's the mighty crime, I wonder, pray,
With Cousin Dick to tumble on the hay?
Just like a baby with her doll you treat one!
Marry come up! why, Cousin Dick won't eat one!
And then, forsooth, what mighty harm would come
In having bits of fun with Cousin Tom?'

Dolly, thy artless answers force my smile—
I readily believe thee void of guile;
My lovely girl, I think thou mean'st no harm:
But had I daughters just like thee, let loose,
I verily should think myself a goose,
To mark each colt-like lass without alarm.

Doll, get thee home, and tell Mama, so mild,
So fearful that a frown would kill her child,
That not ev'n birch to kill that child is able;
And tell thy Father, a fond fool, from me,
To look a little sharper after thee,
Clip thy wild tongue, and tie thee to the table.





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net