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Written by William Topaz McGonagall | |

Lord Roberts Triumphal Entry into Pretoria

 'Twas in the year of 1900, and on the 5th of June,
Lord Roberts entered Pretoria in the afternoon;
His triumphal entry was magnificent to see,
The British Army marching behind him fearlessly.
With their beautiful banners unfurled to the breeze, But the scene didn't the Boers please; And they immediately made some show of fight, But at the charge of the bayonet they were put to flight.
The troops, by the people, were received with loud cheers, While many of them through joy shed joyous tears; Because Lord Roberts from bondage had set them free, Which made them dance and sing with glee.
Lord Roberts' march into Pretoria was inspiring to see, It is reckoned one of the greatest achievements in our military history; Because the Boers were watching him in front and behind, But he scattered them like chaff before the wind.
Oh! it was a most beautiful and inspiring sight To see the British bayonets glittering in the sunlight, Whilst the bands played "See the conquering hero comes," While the people in ecstasy towards them run.
The British marched into Pretoria like the rushing tide, And the Boers around Pretoria there no longer could abide, Because the British at the charge of the bayonet made them run with fear, And fly from Pretoria just like wild dear.
Then Lord Roberts cried, "Pull down the Transvaal Flag, And hoist the Union Jack instead of the Transvaal rag; And shout 'Britannia for ever,' and 'Long live our Queen,' For she is the noblest Queen the world has ever seen.
" Then the Union Jack was hoisted and unfurled to the breeze, Which certainly did the Boers displease, When they saw the Union Jack flying o'er their capital, The sight thereof amazed them, and did them appall.
And when old Kruger saw Lord Roberts he shook with fright, Then he immediately disguised himself and took to flight, Leaving his poor wife in Pretoria behind, But the British troops have treated her very kind.
Now let us all thank Lord Roberts for his great bravery, Who has gained for the people of Pretoria their liberty, By his skillful tactics and great generalship, be it told, And the courage of his soldiers, who fought like lions bold.
Lord Roberts is a brave man, be it said, Who never was the least afraid To defend his Queen and country when called upon; And by his valorous deeds great battles he has won.
Then success to Lord Roberts and the British Army, May God protect them by land and by sea; And enable them always to conquer the Boers, And beat all foreign foes from our shores.


Written by William Topaz McGonagall | |

The Convicts Return

 Ye mountains and glens of fair Scotland I'm with ye once again,
During my absence from ye my heart was like to break in twain;
Oh! How I longed to see you and the old folks at home,
And with my lovely Jeannie once more in the green woods to roam.
Now since I've returned safe home again I will try and be content With my lovely Jeannie at home, And forget my banishment.
My Jeannie and me will get married, And I will be to her a good man, And we'll live happy together, And do the best we can.
I hope my Jeannie and me Will always happy be, And never feel discontent; And at night at the fireside I'll relate to her the trials of my banishment.
But now I will never leave my Jeannie again Until the day I die; And before the vital spark has fled I will bid ye all good-bye.


Written by William Topaz McGonagall | |

Lines in Praise of Professor Blackie

 Alas! the people's hearts are now full of sorrow
For the deceased Professor Blackie, of Edinboro';
Because he was a Christian man, affable and kind,
And his equal in charitable actions would be hard to find 

'Twas in the year of 1895, March the 2nd, he died at 10 o'clock.
Which to his dear wife, and his adopted son, was a great shock; And before he died he bade farewell to his adopted son and wife.
Which, no doubt, they will remember during life.
Professor Blackie celebrated his golden wedding three years ago, When he was made the recipient of respect from high and low.
He leaves a widow, but, fortunately, no family, Which will cause Mrs.
Blackie to feel less unhappy.
Professor Blackie will be greatly missed in Edinboro; Especially those that met him daily will feel great sorrow, When they think of his never-failing plaid and hazel rung, For, although he was an old man, he considered he was young.
He had a very striking face, and silvery locks like a seer, And in the hearts of the Scottish people he was loved most dear; And many a heart will mourn for him, but all in vain, Because he never can return to them again.
He was a very kind-hearted man, and in no way vain, And I'm afraid we ne'er shall look upon his like again; And to hear him tell Scotch stories, the time did quickly pass, And for singing Scotch songs few could him surpass.
But I hope e is in heaven, singing with saints above, Around God's throne, where all is peace and love; There, where God's children daily doth meet To sing praises to God, enchanting and sweet.
He had visited almost every part of Europe in his time, And, like Lord Byron, he loved the Grecian clime; Nor did he neglect his own dear country, And few men knew it more thoroughly than he.
On foot he tramped o'er most of bonnie Scotland, And in his seventies he climbed the highest hills most grand.
Few men in his day could be compared to him, Because he wasn't hard on fallen creatures when they did sin.
Oh, dearly beloved Professor Blackie, I must conclude my muse, And to write in praise of thee my pen does not refuse; Because you were a very Christian man, be it told, Worthy of a monument, and your name written thereon in letters of gold.


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Written by William Topaz McGonagall | |

Beautiful Newport on the Braes o the Silvery Tay

 Bonnie Mary, the Maid o' the Tay,
Come! Let's go, and have a holiday
In Newport, on the braes o' the silvery Tay,
'Twill help to drive dull care away.
The scenery there is most enchanting to be seen, Especially the fine mansions with their shrubbery green; And the trees and ivy are beautiful to view Growing in front of each stately home in the avenue.
There the little birds and beautiful butterflies Are soaring heavenwards almost to the skies, And the busy bees are to be seen on the wing, As from flower to flower they hummingly sing, As they gather honey all the day, From flowery gardens of Newport on the braes o' the Tay.
And as we view the gardens our hearts will feel gay After being pent up in the workshop all the day.
Then there's a beautiful spot near an old mill, Suitable for an artist to paint of great skill, And the trees are arched o'erhead, lovely to be seen, Which screens ye from the sunshine's glittering sheen.
Therefore, holiday makers, I'd have ye resort To Newport on the braes o' the Tay for sport, And inhale the pure air with its sweet perfume, Emanating from the flowery gardens of Newport and the yellow broom.
And when bright Sol sinks in the West You'll return home at night quite refreshed, And dream in your beds of your rambles during the day Along the bonnie braes o' the silvery Tay.


Written by William Topaz McGonagall | |

A Requisition to the Queen

 Smiths Buildings No.
19 Patons Lane, Dundee.
Sept the 6th.
1877.
Most August! Empress of India, and of great Britain the Queen, I most humbly beg your pardon, hoping you will not think it mean That a poor poet that lives in Dundee, Would be so presumptous to write unto Thee Most lovely Empress of India, and Englands generous Queen, I send you an Address, I have written on Scotlands Bard, Hoping that you will accept it, and not be with me to hard, Nor fly into a rage, but be as Kind and Condescending As to give me your Patronage Beautiful Empress, of India, and Englands Gracious Queen, I send you a Shakespearian Address written by me.
And I think if your Majesty reads it, right pleased you will be.
And my heart it will leap with joy, if it is patronized by Thee.
Most Mighty Empress, of India, and Englands beloved Queen, Most Handsome to be Seen.
I wish you every Success.
And that heaven may you bless.
For your Kindness to the poor while they are in distress.
I hope the Lord will protect you while living And hereafter when your Majesty is .
.
.
dead.
I hope the Lord above will place an eternal Crown! upon your Head.
I am your Gracious Majesty ever faithful to Thee, William McGonagall, The Poor Poet, That lives in Dundee.


Written by William Topaz McGonagall | |

The Burns Statue

 This Statue, I must confess, is magnificent to see,
And I hope will long be appreciated by the people of Dundee;
It has been beautifully made by Sir John Steell,
And I hope the pangs of hunger he will never feel.
This statue is most elegant in its design, And I hope will defy all weathers for a very long time; And I hope strangers from afar with admiration will stare On this beautiful statue of thee, Immortal Bard of Ayr.
Fellow-citizens, this Statue seems most beautiful to the eye, Which would cause Kings and Queens for such a one to sigh, And make them feel envious while passing by In fear of not getting such a beautiful Statue after they die.


Written by William Topaz McGonagall | |

An Ode to the Queen

 All hail to the Empress of India, Great Britain's Queen!
Long may she live in health, happy and serene;
Loved by her subjects at home and abroad;
Blest may she be when lying down
To sleep, and rising up, by the Eternal God;
Happy may her visions be in sleep .
.
.
And happy her thoughts in the day time; Let all loyal subjects drink to her health In a flowing bumper of Rhenish Wine.
And when the final hour shall come to summon her away, May her soul be wafted to the realms of bliss, I most sincerely do pray, to sing with saints above, Where all is joy, peace and love - In Heaven, for evermore to reign, God Save the Queen.
Amen.


Written by William Topaz McGonagall | |

The Village of Tayport and Its Surroundings

 All ye pleasure-seekers, where'er ye be,
I pray ye all be advised by me,
Go and visit Tayport on the banks o' the Tay,
And there ye can spend a pleasant holiday.
The village and its surroundings are magnificent to be seen, And the shops on the High Street are tidy and clean, And the goods, I'm sure, would please the Queen, They cannot be surpassed in Edinburgh or Aberdeen.
And the villagers' gardens are lovely to be seen, There sweet flowers grow and gooseberries green.
And the fragrant air will make you feel gay While viewing the scenery there on the banks of the Tay.
Scotscraig is an ancient and a most charming spot, And once seen by visitors will never be forgot.
'Twas there that Archbishop Sharp lived long ago, And the flower-garden there is a very grand show.
The flower beds there are very beautiful to see, They surpass the Baxter Park flower beds in Dundee, And are all enclosed in a round ring, And there the bee and the butterfly are often on the wing.
Scotscraig farm-house is magnificent to see With its beautiful rich fields of wheat and barley, And the farm-house steading is certainly very fine, And the scenery is charming in the summer time.
The Serpentine Walk is a secluded spot in Scotscraig wood, And to be walking there 'twould do one's heart good.
There the lovers can enjoy themselves in its shady bowers By telling tales of love to wile away the tedious hours.
There innocent rabbits do sport and play During the livelong summer day Amongst the ivy and shrubberies green, And screened all day from the sun's sheen.
Then, lovers of the picturesque, off and away To the village of Tayport on the banks o' the Tay, And ramble through Scotscraig wood, It will, I'm sure, do your bodies good.
And, as ye walk along the Serpentine Walk, With each other ye can have a social talk, And ye will hear the birds singing away, Which will make your hearts feel light and gay.
And while walking underneath the branches of the trees, Ye will hear the humming of the bees.
Therefore, pleasure-seekers, make no delay, But visit Scotscraig wood on a fine summer day.
There visitors can be shaded from the sun in the summer time, While walking along the secluded Serpentine, By the spreading branches of the big trees, Or from the undergrowth ivy, if they please.
Do not forget to visit the old Tower, Where Archbishop Sharp spent many an hour, Viewing the beautiful scenery for miles away Along the bonnie banks o' the silvery Tay.


Written by William Topaz McGonagall | |

The Castle of Mains

 Ancient Castle of the Mains,
With your romantic scenery and surrounding plains,
Which seem most beautiful to the eye,
And the little rivulet running by,
Which the weary traveller can drink of when he feels dry.
And the heaven's breath smells sweetly there, And scented perfumes fill the air, Emanating from the green trees and beautiful wild flowers growing there.
There the people can enjoy themselves And wile away the time, By admiring the romantic scenery In the beautiful sunshine; And pull the little daisy, As they carelessly recline Upon the grassy green banks, Which is most charming to see, Near by the Castle of the Mains, Not far from Dundee.
Then there's the old burying-ground, Most solemn to see, And the silent dead reposing silently Amid the shady trees, In that beautiful fairy dell Most lovely to see, Which in the summer season Fills the people's hearts with glee, To hear the birds singing and the humming of the bee.


Written by William Topaz McGonagall | |

The Wreck of the Indian Chief

 'Twas on the 8th of January 1881,
That a terrific gale along the English Channel ran,
And spread death and disaster in its train,
Whereby the "Indian Chief" vessel was tossed on the raging main.
She was driven ashore on the Goodwin Sands, And the good captain fearlessly issued hie commands, "Come, my men, try snd save the vessel, work with all your might," Although the poor sailors on board were in a fearful plight.
They were expecting every minute her hull would give way, And they, poor souls, felt stricken with dismay, And the captain and some of the crew clung to the main masts, Where they were exposed to the wind's cold blasts.
A fierce gale was blowing and the sea ran mountains high, And the sailors on board heaved many a bitter sigh; And in the teeth of the storm the lifeboat was rowed bravely Towards the ship in distress, which was awful to see.
The ship was lifted high on the crest of a wave, While the sailors tried hard their lives to save, And implored God to save them from a watery grave, And through fear eome of them began to rave.
The waves were miles long in length; And the sailors had lost nearly all their strength, By striving hard their lives to save, From being drowned in the briny wave.
A ration of rum and a biscuit was served out to each man, And the weary night passed, and then appeared the morning dawn; And when the lifeboat hove in sight a sailor did shout, "Thank God, there's she at last without any doubt.
" But, with weakness and the biting cold, Several of fhe sailors let go their hold; And, alas, fell into the yawning sea, Poor souls! and were launched into eternity.
Oh, it was a most fearful plight, For the poor sailors to be in the rigging all night; While the storm fiend did laugh and roar, And the big waves lashed the ship all o'er.
And as the lifeboat drew near, The poor sailors raised a faint cheer; And all the lifeboat men saw was a solitary mast, And some sailors clinging to it, while the ahip was sinking fast.
Charles Tait, the coxswain of the lifeboat, was a skilful boatman, And the bravery he and his crew displayed was really grand; For his men were hardy and a very heroic set, And for bravery their equals it would be hard to get.
But, thank God, out of twenty-nine eleven were saved, Owing to the way the lifeboat men behaved; And when they landed with the eleven wreckers at Ramsgate, The people's joy was very great.


Written by William Topaz McGonagall | |

The Wreck of the Steamer Storm Queen

 Ye landsmen, all pray list to me,
While I relate a terrible tale of the sea,
Concerning the screw steamer "Storm Queen"
Which was wrecked, alas! a most heast-rending scene.
From Sebastopol, with a cargo of grain, she was on her way, And soon after entering the Bay of Biscay, On the 21st of December, they experienced a fearful storm Such as they never experienced since they were born.
The merciless sea was running mountains high, And to save themselves from a watery grave manfully they did try; But the vessel became unmanageable, but still they worked away, And managed to launch two small boats without dismay.
They wrought most manfully and behaved very well, But a big wave smashed a smell boat before they left the vessel; Still the Captain, Mr Jaques, and five of the crew Clung to the "Storm Queen" until she sank beneath the waters blue.
While the sea lashed itself into white foam and loudly did roar, And with a gurgling sound the big waves covered the vessel o'er; So perished Captain Jaques and five of the crew Who stuck to the vessel, as brave sailors would do.
But before the vessel sank a raft was made, And a few men got on to it who were not afraid; And oh! it was enough to make one's blood to freeze To see them jumping off the steamer into the yawning seas.
So they were tossed about on the big billows the whole night, And beneath the big waves they were engulphed before daylight; But 22 that reached the boats were saved in all By the aid of God, on whom they did call.
And on the next morning before daylight The Norwegian barque "Gulvare" hove in sight; Then they shouted and pulled towards her with all their might, While the seas were running high, oh! what a fearful sight.
The poor souls were prevented from getting along side Of the barque "Gulvare" by the heavy seas and tide; And as the boats drew near the barque the storm increases Until the boats struck against her and were dashed to pieces.
It was almost beyond human efforts with the storm to cope But most fortunately they were hauled on board by a rope, While the big waves did lash the barque all over, But by a merciful providence they were landed safely at Dover.
The survivors when rescued were in a destitute state, But nevertheless they seemed resigned to their fate, And they thanked God that did them save Most timely from a cold and watery grave.
And during their stay in Dover they received kind treatment, For which they, poor creatures, felt very content; And when they recovered from their ills they met at sea, The authorities sent them home to their own country.
But as for Captain Jaques, few men like him had been, Because he couldn't be persuaded to desert the "Storm Queen," As he declared he wouldn't leave her whatever did betide; So the brave hero sank with her beneath the waters wide.


Written by William Topaz McGonagall | |

The Wreck of the Thomas Dryden

 As I stood upon the sandy beach
One morn near Pentland Ferry,
I saw a beautiful brigantine,
And all her crew seem'd merry.
When lo! the wind began to howl, And the clouds began to frown, And in the twinkling of an eye The rain came pouring down.
Then the sea began to swell, And seem'd like mountains high, And the sailors on board that brigantine To God for help did loudly cry.
Oh! it was an awful sight To see them struggling with all their might, And Imploring God their lives to save From a merciless watery grave.
Their cargo consisted of window-glass, Also coal and linseed-oil, Which helped to calm the raging sea That loud and angry did boil.
Because when the bottoms of the barrels Were with the raging billows stove in, The oil spread o'er the water, And smoothed the stormy billows' din! Then she began to duck in the trough of the sea, Which was fearful to behold; And her crossyards dipped in the big billows As from side to side she rolled.
She was tossed about on the merciless sea, And received some terrible shocks, Until at last she ran against A jagged reef of rocks.
'Twas then she was rent asunder, And the water did rush in -- It was most dreadful to hear it, It made such a terrific din.
Then the crew jumped into the small boats While the Storm-fiend did roar, And were very near being drowned Before they got ashore.
Then the coal-dust blackened the water Around her where she lay, And the barrels of linseed-oil They floated far away.
And when the crew did get ashore, They were shaking with cold and fright, And they went away to Huna inn, And got lodgings for the night!


Written by William Topaz McGonagall | |

To Mr James Scrymgeour Dundee

 Success to James Scrymgeour,
He's a very good man,
And to gainsay it,
There's few people can; 

Because he makes the hearts
Of the poor o'erjoyed
By trying to find work for them
When they're unemployed.
And to their complaints He has always an attentive ear, And ever ready to help them When unto him they draw near.
And no matter what your occupation is.
Or what is your creed.
He will try to help you In the time of need; Because he has the fear Of God within his heart, And the man that fears God Always takes the poor's part.
And blessed is the man That is kind to the poor; For his reward in heaven, 'Tis said in the Scripture, is sure.
And I hope heaven will be Mr James Sctymgeour's reward; For his struggles on behalf of the poor Are really vexatious and hard.
For he is to be seen daily Walking along our streets, With a Christian-looking countenance, And a kind word to all he meets.
Besides, he is void of all pride, And wouldn't feel ashamed To be seen with a beggar Or a tinker walking by his side.
Fellow-citizens of Dundee, Isn't it really very nice To think of James Scrymgeour trying To rescue fallen creatures from the paths of vice? And in the winter he tries to provide Hot dinners for the poor children of Dundee, Who are starving with hunger no doubt, And in the most abject poverty.
He is a little deaf, no doubt, But not deaf to the cries of hungry men, No! he always tries to do his best To procure bread for them.
And at the Sabbath-morning free-breakfasts He is often seen there, Administering to the wants of the hungry, And joining in prayer.
He is a man of noble principles, As far as 1 can think, And the noblest principle he has got Is, he abhors the demon drink.
And, in my opinion, he is right As far as I can see, And I hereby proclaim that such a man Is an honour to Dundee: Because he is always working For the poor people's good.
Kind soul, trying hard To procure for them clothing and food Success to him and his family.
And may God them defend: Why? fellow citizens of Dundee, Because he is the poor man's friend.


Written by William Topaz McGonagall | |

Womens Suffrage

 Fellow men! why should the lords try to despise
And prohibit women from having the benefit of the parliamentary Franchise?
When they pay the same taxes as you and me,
I consider they ought to have the same liberty.
And I consider if they are not allowed the same liberty, From taxation every one of them should be set free; And if they are not, it is really very unfair, And an act of injustice I most solemnly declare.
Women, farmers, have no protection as the law now stands; And many of them have lost their property and lands, And have been turned out of their beautiful farms By the unjust laws of the land and the sheriffs' alarms.
And in my opinion, such treatment is very cruel; And fair play, 'tis said, is a precious jewel; But such treatment causes women to fret and to dote, Because they are deprived of the parliamentary Franchise vote.
In my opinion, what a man pays for he certainly should get; And if he does not, he will certainly fret; And why wouldn't women do the very same? Therefore, to demand the parliamentary Franchise they are not to blame.
Therefore let them gather, and demand the parliamentary Franchise; And I'm sure no reasonable man will their actions despise, For trying to obtain the privileges most unjustly withheld from them; Which Mr.
Gladstone will certainly encourage and never condemn.
And as for the working women, many are driven to the point of starvation, All through the tendency of the legislation; Besides, upon members of parliament they have no claim As a deputation, which is a very great shame.
Yes, the Home Secretary of the present day, Against working women's deputations, has always said- nay; Because they haven't got the parliamentary Franchise-, That is the reason why he does them despise.
And that, in my opinion, is really very unjust; But the time is not far distant, I most earnestly trust, When women will have a parliamentary vote, And many of them, I hope, will wear a better petticoat.
And I hope that God will aid them in this enterprise, And enable them to obtain the parliamentary Franchise; And rally together, and make a bold stand, And demand the parliamentary Franchise throughout Scotland.
And do not rest day nor night- Because your demands are only right In the eyes of reasonable men, and God's eyesight; And Heaven, I'm sure, will defend the right.
Therefore go on brave women! and never fear, Although your case may seem dark and drear, And put your trust in God, for He is strong; And ye will gain the parliamentary Franchise before very long.


Written by William Topaz McGonagall | |

The Relief of Mafeking

 Success to Colonel Baden-Powell and his praises loudly sing,
For being so brave in relieving Mafeking,
With his gallant little band of eight hundred men,
They made the Boers fly from Mafeking like sheep escaping from a pen.
'Twas in the year of 1900 and on the 18th of May, That Colonel Baden-Powell beat the Boers without dismay, And made them fly from Mafeking without delay, Which will be handed down to posterity for many a day.
Colonel Baden-Powell is a very brave man, And to deny it, I venture to say, few men can; He is a noble hero be it said, For at the siege of Mafeking he never was afraid.
And during the siege Colonel Baden was cheerful and gay, While the starving population were living on brawn each day; And alas! the sufferings of the women and children were great, But they all submitted patiently to their fate.
For seven months besieged they fought the Boers without dismay, Until at last the Boers were glad to run away; Because Baden-Powell's gallant band put them to flight By cannon shot and volleys of musketry to the left and right.
Then long live Baden-Powell and his brave little band, For during the siege of Mafeking they made a bold stand Against yelling thousands of Boers who were thirsting for their blood, But as firm as a rock against them they fearlessly stood.
Oh! think of them living on brawn extracted from horse hides, While the inhuman Boers their sufferings deride, Knowing that the women's hearts with grief were torn As they looked on their children's faces that looked sad and forlorn.
For 217 days the Boers tried to obtain Mafeking's surrender, But their strategy was futile owing to its noble defender, Colonel Baden-Powell, that hero of renown, Who, by his masterly generalship, saved the town.
Methinks I see him and his gallant band, Looking terror to the foe: Oh! The sight was really grand, As he cried, "Give it them, lads; let's do or die; And from Mafeking we'll soon make them fly, And we'll make them rue their rash undertaking The day they laid siege to the town of Mafeking.
" Long life and prosperity to Colonel Baden-Powell, For there's very few generals can him excel; And he is now the Hero of Mafeking, be it told, And his name should be engraved on medals of gold.
I wish him and his gallant little band every success, For relieving the people of Mafeking while in distress; They made the Boers rue their rash undertaking The day they laid siege to the town of Mafeking.
For during the defence of Mafeking From grief he kept the people's hearts from breaking, Because he sang to them and did recite Passages from Shakespeare which did their hearts delight.