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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
JERRY JARVIS'S WIG, by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM Poet's Biography First Line: Joe,' said old jarvis, looking out of his window, - it Last Line: To 'ride on the whirlwind and direct the storm.' Alternate Author Name(s): Ingoldsby, Thomas | |||
Jerry Jarvis was jolly and gay, His wig was as well powdered as Chancery Lane; But what puzzled his friends, both in and out, Was to find that the powder would never stay. Though frizzled and curled with the nicest care, It would never stay on for half-a-day; But in black specks, like a peppered pear, It always ended by wearing away. At last Jerry cried—"I'll give it o'er, This wig powdering troubles me more and more; I'll e'en be content with what nature has given, And wear my own hair, both curling and living." He did so; and every maid and miss, As soon as he came, began to quiz; For, spite of his wig, and his powder so white, His own crop of hair was—horribly light! In short, he was laughed at by all the town; And Jerry, vexed, in a pet laid it down; And said—"I'm determined no more to be puzzled With wigs, or with hair that's so very slightly muzzled." He took his razor, and shaved it all off, And put on a wig that he thought the staff; And went to a ball, with such powder and puff, That he seem'd like a snow-ball, or maccaroni duff! In the heat of the dance, he bow'd to Miss Spinks, And she made him a curtsy, and down drops his links; Away went his wig to the other end of the room, And Jerry was left with a very bald dome! He left the assembly, as one might suppose, With grief in his heart, and powder on his nose; And walk'd through the streets with a swagger and frown, To show that he cared not for Fortune's renown. But while he was thus, in a terrible pet, Up came a fresh object to make him forget; A wasp had intruded upon his bald pate, And was having a lark with his newly-powder'd face! Jerry cried—"Oh, I'm stung!" and he roar'd like mad, And he caper'd and danc'd like a Cat in a pad; While the people, who saw him so strangely afflicted, Thought the poor little gentleman surely was wicked! But soon his behavior had made it quite clear, That no wicked intention had brought him here; And a clever Physician, who came to his aid, Soon drove the wasp, and the pain, and the powder away. The moral's a simple one, if you please— Trust not too much to one's wigs, or one's powder, or these; And be sure, if your head should ever be bare, That you keep a sharp eye on the things that are there! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LAST LINES OF THOMAS INGOLDSBY by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM NEW-MADE HONOUR (IMITATED FROM MARTIAL) by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM THE INEBRIATE by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM THE POPLAR by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM A LAY OF ST. DUNSTAN by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM A LAY OF ST. GENGULPHUS by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM A ROW IN AN OMNIBUS BOX; A LEGEND OF THE HAYMARKET by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM AUNT FANNY; A LEGEND OF A SHIRT by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM BLOUDIE JACKE OF SHREWSBERRIE; THE SHROPSHIRE BLUEBEARD by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM EPIGRAM by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |
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