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GEORGE BURGESS
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Poets Corner

A Selection of Family Poetry on Nathanville

Also see Victorian Poetry - A selection of poems from the scrapbook of George Burgess of Victorian Newspapers Articles

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George Burgess (1829-1905)

PASTOR BRANDY WINE

O - Pastor Brandywine,
Is quite a modest man,
Therefore I sing a line,
To help him if I can.
In his good well known face;
Both grace and spirit shine.
And `moderation' claims a place
In Pastor Brandywine.

This Pastor in his church;
With `officers' at hand -
Can leave quiet `in the church',
The whole teetotal band.
He tries, with some `good works',
In `simple faith' to shine.
And hence we find to temperance `quirks',
In Pastor Brandywine.

This Pastor's helpers, all -
Love brandy, wine and beer.
And, not since Adams `fall',
Has such a set been here.
They take a `moderate drink' -
Then, earnestly, they pine,
To have all rush from ruin's brink,
With Pastor Brandywine.

Sometimes a cup of tea,
Enters the Pastor's lips,
But, ere he preaches, he
Prefers to have his `nips',
For vestry helpers got,
What is not yours, or mine -
Some spirits, either cold or hot,
For Pastor Brandywine.

This Pastor, spirit - primed,
Into the pulpit goes -
He never yet declined,
A `drop to warm his nose' -
Then, boldly speaking forth,
His words of truth-divine;
He proves to be a man of worth.
Does Pastor Brandywine.

This Pastor, with some force,
Denounces drunkenness,
And prays, till he is hoarse,
That sin may soon get less.
His warm `petitions', rise,
Upward! in Heaven's line -
But answers linger in the skies,
For Pastor Brandywine.

This Pastor, doth assure,
Teetotallers - in love -
That drunkard's `perfect cure',
Must drop `from above'.
He says - to quite `abstain',
Will not suit one in nine -
Then takes a `drop to clear his brain'.
Does Pastor Brandywine.

This Pastor, sometimes, talks,
A little, round about,
And now and then, he walks,
In more or less of doubt.
His breath, too, `tells a tale' -
But we must not malign,
A pious man who loves his ale,
Like Pastor Brandywine.

This Pastor gives a call,
On one of his white `flock' -
And hopes to make a haul,
From his fair friend's `choice stock',
He bids her to `look up'!
And smiles, and looks benign.
Then, she fills full the goblet cup,
For Pastor Brandywine

The Pastor's hearers dote,
On him, through fits and starts.
With wine they warm the throat;
With love he warms their hearts.
They all together try,
Around them to entwine,
And when he's `indisposed', they sigh,
For Pastor Brandywine.

This Pastor will not win,
On the teetotal question,
For `the Doctor' orders gin,
To cure his indigestion.
Then the Pastor, and the quack,
Do both set up a whine;
Ruin soon will sweep the track,
And end poor `Brandywine'.

George Burgess - March 1875


WANTED A BARMAID

I now am looking for a bright barmaid;
A sweet young lady, twenty years of age.
One that is honest - but still not afraid,
My patrons' appetites to try and gauge.

For salary, she need not care so much.
As for employment cheerful and genteel.
Her fingers never menial work shall touch -
A lady she shall be from head to heel.

Me - she must try and do her best to please -
Must aim to meet my every little wish.
And should I give her hand an amorous squeeze,
She must not bruise my head with jug or dish.

My many customers, who day-by-day,
Call in to drink my brandy, wine, and beer -
She must so charm, that they may longer stay;
To drink, and spend, and get their pockets clear!

In dress and looks, she must be winning-gay!
Must let her smiles entrance all sorts of men.
Thus she must pass her maiden hours away;
And smile and smile, till past the hour of ten.

She never must look sad behind the bar;
Nor long to see her home, and old fireside.
The gin shop pleasures must surpass by far,
The joys which floated on her childhood's tide.

She must grow fond of winks, and loving fun;
And show delight at every drinker's jest.
And when men's warm attentions towards her run;
She must love all alike, yet each one best.

She must not turn her maiden ears away
When customers shall drink until they swear -
But look as happy as the Queen of May -
And all their jests and ravings calmly hear.

She must from drinkers' hands the glasses take,
And wash well from them, all that men decline.
And such employment certainly should make,
A fair young beauty, always feel sublime.

Now, if some sweet and pretty young lady will,
Agree to serve behind my bar, and grin -
She will the hearts of all my patrons thrill;
And may at last, some docile husband win!

Apply by letter, with photo, to
Mr Bung, & Co, Unlimited -
No. 1 Ruin Avenue,
Drink-Town,
Imbibershire,
England

George Burgess, February 1876


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