Showing posts with label William Topaz McGonagall. Show all posts
Showing posts with label William Topaz McGonagall. Show all posts

Thursday 26 August 2010

William Topaz McGonagall 'Edinburgh'


Edinburgh
Beautiful city of Edinburgh!
Where the tourist can drown his sorrow
By viewing your monuments and statues fine
During the lovely summer-time.
I'm sure it will his spirits cheer
As Sir Walter Scott's monument he draws near,
That stands in East Prince's Street
Amongst flowery gardens, fine and neat.
And Edinburgh Castle is magnificent to be seen
With its beautiful walks and trees so green,
Which seems like a fairy dell;
And near by its rocky basement is St Margaret's Well,
Where the tourist can drink at when he feels dry,
And view the castle from beneath so very high,
Which seems almost towering to the sky.
Then as for Nelson's monument that stands on Calton Hill,
As the tourist gazes thereon, with wonder his heart does fill
As he thinks on Admiral Nelson who did the Frenchmen kill,
Then, as for Salisbury Crags, they are most beautiful to be seen,
Especially in the month of June, when the grass is green;
There numerous mole-hills can be seen,
And the busy little creatures howking away,
Searching for worms among the clay;
And as the tourist's eye does wander to and fro
From the south side of Salisbury Crags below,
His bosom with admiration feels all aglow
As he views the beautiful scenery in the valley below;
And if, with an observant eye, the little loch beneath he scans,
He can see the wild ducks about and beautiful white swans.
Then, as for Arthur's Seat, I'm sure it is a treat
Most worthy to be seen, with its rugged rocks and pastures green,
And the sheep browsing on its sides
To and fro, with slow-paced strides,
And the little lambkins at play
During the livelong summer day,
Beautiful city of Edinburgh! the truth to express,
Your beauties are matchless I must confess,
And which no one dare gainsay,
But that you are the grandest city in Scotland at the present day!    

Friday 21 December 2007

William Topaz McGonagall

Time for culture I think. Culture with a capital 'K' at that! I refer of course to what Spike Milligan called that great "Poet, tragedian and twit," William Topaz McGonagall! This man has become one of Scotland's most famous sons.
Not because of his great talent, indeed his fame comes from the lack of them!
William was born of Irish parents in Edinburgh sometime between 1825 and 1830, depending on who you believe. His family eventually settled in Dundee and although he had some education, most of Wullie's time was spent as a hand loom weaver. He claimed that in 1877 he discovered
the 'muse' had come upon him and he was a poet. He had already tried out the acting in 'Macbeth.' From this moment on he began a life as a poet, travelling around performing in pubs and halls wherever he was welcome. He was always welcomed, for while he perceived himself to be a poet the audience perceived him to be a 'Bam!' It became the thing to invite him to give a reading just so the motley crew gathered there could ridicule him, sometimes in the most violent manner. Abused and assaulted, pelted with rotten veg and other vile armoury he continued nonetheless to believe in himself and his abilities as a poet. All this, in spite of the reality! On one occasion he walked fifty miles to Balmoral to see Queen Victoria in person. The police constable at the gate turned him away in a fashion that would not occur in these politically correct days. It was also strongly emphasised that he should not return! Over two hundred poems were published during his twenty five year long literary career, a career which even took him to New York at one stage, but he was quickly on the boat home again.
Did he realise he was a joke to the world, and therefore play to them as this was his only means of income? Some would say so. Sadly it appears he may well have considered himself equal to Burns and other famous bards. His poetry has however remained popular, mostly because it is awful! Because of this he has become one of Scotland's most loved, and quoted poets. Not however in the higher echelons of Scots poetic society! Maybe had he read Burns a little closer he would have considered more the line "To see ourselves as others see us," and gone back to the weaving. It would have been our loss mind if he had!

William wrote this when the Tay bridge was opened in September 1878:-

The Railway Bridge of the Silvery Tay

BEAUTIFUL Railway Bridge of the Silvery Tay !
With your numerous arches and pillars in so grand array
And your central girders, which seem to the eye
To be almost towering to the sky.
The greatest wonder of the day,
And a great beautification to the River Tay,
Most beautiful to be seen,
Near by Dundee and the Magdalen Green.

Sadly this bridge was struck by a gale on the night of the 28th December 1879, and the design faults and construction failures led to a weakening of the central girders. As the Edinburgh train reached the 'High Girders' the weight and the gale combined to bring the edifice crashing down into the Tay. The Tay is wide at this point and is renowned as carrying the largest volume of water in the UK. There were no survivors. The engine was eventually lifted from the depths and went back into use until 1908. With typical Scots black humour it became known as 'The Diver.'

Once again William Topaz McGonagall found reason to write, and produced what has become his most quoted poem. It gives an excellent example of his style, if that is the word, and surely leaves a desire with all readers for more!

The Tay Bridge Disaster

Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silv'ry Tay!
Alas! I am very sorry to say
That ninety lives have been taken away
On the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember'd for a very long time.

'Twas about seven o'clock at night,
And the wind it blew with all its might,
And the rain came pouring down,
And the dark clouds seem'd to frown,
And the Demon of the air seem'd to say-
"I'll blow down the Bridge of Tay."

When the train left Edinburgh
The passengers' hearts were light and felt no sorrow,
But Boreas blew a terrific gale,
Which made their hearts for to quail,
And many of the passengers with fear did say-
"I hope God will send us safe across the Bridge of Tay."

But when the train came near to Wormit Bay,
Boreas he did loud and angry bray,
And shook the central girders of the Bridge of Tay
On the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember'd for a very long time.

So the train sped on with all its might,
And Bonnie Dundee soon hove in sight,
And the passengers' hearts felt light,
Thinking they would enjoy themselves on the New Year,
With their friends at home they lov'd most dear,
And wish them all a happy New Year.

So the train mov'd slowly along the Bridge of Tay,
Until it was about midway,
Then the central girders with a crash gave way,
And down went the train and passengers into the Tay!
The Storm Fiend did loudly bray,
Because ninety lives had been taken away,
On the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember'd for a very long time.

As soon as the catastrophe came to be known
The alarm from mouth to mouth was blown,
And the cry rang out all o'er the town,
Good Heavens! the Tay Bridge is blown down,
And a passenger train from Edinburgh,
Which fill'd all the peoples hearts with sorrow,
And made them for to turn pale,
Because none of the passengers were sav'd to tell the tale
How the disaster happen'd on the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember'd for a very long time.

It must have been an awful sight,
To witness in the dusky moonlight,
While the Storm Fiend did laugh, and angry did bray,
Along the Railway Bridge of the Silv'ry Tay,
Oh! ill-fated Bridge of the Silv'ry Tay,
I must now conclude my lay
By telling the world fearlessly without the least dismay,
That your central girders would not have given way,
At least many sensible men do say,
Had they been supported on each side with buttresses,
At least many sensible men confesses,
For the stronger we our houses do build,
The less chance we have of being killed.


Those who wish to learn more about this great man, and surely you want to, can find his poems at 'McGonagall Online.'
Well worth a browse over the Christmas period.