1. ‘I Have a Gentle Cock’ : An Anonymous Medieval Poem
I haue a gentil cook,
Crowyt me day.
He doth me rysyn erly,
My matyins for to say.
I haue a gentil cook,
Comyn he is of gret.
His comb is of reed corel,
His tayil is of get.
I haue a gentyl cook,
Comyn he is of kynde.
His comb is of red scorel,
His tayl is of Inde.
His legges ben of asor,
So geintil and so smale.
His spores arn of syluer qwyt,
In to the worte wale.
His eynyn arn of cristal,
Lokyn al in aumbyr,
And euery nyght he perchit hym
In myn ladyis chaumbyr.
What, a medieval sexual double entendre to kick us off? Well, it’s worth remembering that English literature begins with not just Beowulf but a series of Anglo-Saxon riddles with sexual innuendo at their heart. This poem, from a few centuries later, is supposedly about a chicken, but its final stanza gives us pause…
I Have a Gentle Cock’ dates from the Middle Ages – probably the fourteenth century – as the Middle English spelling (reproduced in the original below) suggests. And yes, there is a bawdy double entendre going on in the title of this short medieval lyric: ‘cock’ is not just a cockerel, one suspects, especially as it appears, suggestively, in the ‘lady’s chamber’ at the end of the poem…
2. ‘On a Tired Housewife’. Anon
Here lies a poor woman who was always tired,
She lived in a house where help wasn’t hired:
Her last words on earth were: ‘Dear friends, I am going
To where there’s no cooking, or washing, or sewing,
For everything there is exact to my wishes,
For where they don’t eat there’s no washing of dishes.
I’ll be where loud anthems will always be ringing,
But having no voice I’ll be quit of the singing.
Don’t mourn for me now, don’t mourn for me never,
I am going to do nothing for ever and ever.’
This has become a popular comic poem, but its origins appear to have been in tragedy: the unknown charwoman who wrote it in 1905 effectively penned it as her suicide note, citing extreme fatigue as her reason for ending it all.
Writing in a letter to Lady Robert Cecil about the poem, Virginia Woolf said that the jury at the coroner’s inquest found the charwoman to have been mad, ‘which proves once more what it is to be a poet in these days’.
3. “Warning” by Jenny Joseph
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people’s gardens
And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
Voted the nation’s favourite poem on at least two occasions, ‘Warning’ reinforces the idea that, for many people, the most valuable sort of poem is the comic poem. From its famous opening line about being purple onwards (possibly inspired by Prufrock’s musings about how to wear his trousers in old age?), ‘Warning’ thoroughly deserves its reputation as a great comic poem.
4. ‘Clerihews’ by E. C. Bentley.
Sir Humphrey Davy
Abominated gravy.
He lived in the odium
Of having discovered Sodium.
Edmund Clerihew Bentley (1875-1956) is chiefly known for two innovations. The first is his contribution to the genre of detective fiction, specifically his novel Trent’s Last Case (1913), which has been called the first modern mystery novel on account of its all-too-human (read: flawed) detective protagonist.
The second is the clerihew, named after Bentley’s own middle name: a four-line poetic form which offers a short, humorous biography of a famous figure. Follow the link above to read some of Bentley’s best.
Classic rules for a Clerihew, namely that it should have:
Four lines
Rhyming couplets of AA, BB
A person’s name as its first line
Something to say about that person
And it should make you smile
5. Matilda Who told Lies, and was Burned to Death by Hilaire Belloc
Matilda told such Dreadful Lies,
It made one Gasp and Stretch one’s Eyes;
Her Aunt, who, from her Earliest Youth,
Had kept a Strict Regard for Truth,
Attempted to Believe Matilda:
The effort very nearly killed her,
And would have done so, had not She
Discovered this Infirmity.
For once, towards the Close of Day,
Matilda, growing tired of play,
And finding she was left alone,
Went tiptoe to the Telephone
And summoned the Immediate Aid
Of London’s Noble Fire-Brigade.
Within an hour the Gallant Band
Were pouring in on every hand,
From Putney, Hackney Downs, and Bow.
With Courage high and Hearts a-glow,
They galloped, roaring through the Town,
‘ Matilda’s House is Burning Down!’
Inspired by British Cheers and Loud
Proceeding from the Frenzied Crowd,
They ran their ladders through a score
Of windows on the Ball Room Floor;
And took Peculiar Pains to Souse
The Pictures up and down the House,
Until Matilda’s Aunt succeeded
In showing them they were not needed;
And even then she had to pay
To get the Men to go away,
It happened that a few Weeks later
Her Aunt was off to the Theatre
To see that Interesting Play
The Second Mrs. Tanqueray.
She had refused to take her Niece
To hear this Entertaining Piece:
A Deprivation Just and Wise
To Punish her for Telling Lies.
That Night a Fire did break out–
You should have heard Matilda Shout!
You should have heard her Scream and Bawl,
And throw the window up and call
To People passing in the Street–
(The rapidly increasing Heat
Encouraging her to obtain
Their confidence) — but all in vain!
For every time she shouted ‘Fire!’
They only answered ‘Little Liar!’
And therefore when her Aunt returned,
Matilda, and the House, were Burned.
One of Belloc’s celebrated cautionary rhymes, this poem – as its title highlights – is about a girl who embodies the fable of ‘the boy who cried wolf’.
