Tay Bridge Disaster poem for Cazarey

[Celyn]

hi Cazarey

Here is the William McGonagall poem we spoke about in chat.


http://www.dundee22.freeserve.co.uk/disaster.htm

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 clods 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 sught,
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 thSilv'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.

[J-J]

I intend to write a poem of that name soon.Watch this space!

Thanks for the laugh Celyn!Much appreciated.

[Celyn]

Eek, J-J Does the world need two of them? Only joking - I'm sure yours will be different from McGonagall's. I look forward to reading it.

[J-J]

Ah but mines is different Celyn - you have to read the title again,slowly

[jacobitedreamer]

Sounds promising!!! Don't let us wait too long!

[J-J]

Warning:This is EVEN WORSE than the original

Beautiful muse of the Poetry!
Alas!I regretfully do say,
That your person was molested and soiled that day,
On that terrible day in 1879,
Which unfortunately will be remembered for a very long time.

It was around nine o'clock at night,
As McGonagle wrote by candle light,
And his ungainly words came pouring out,
Inspired perhaps,largely by his gout,
And his peanut sized brain did seem to say
"I'll debase the Poetry"

Buttresses,Girders,Wormit Bay,
For such his pen did idiotically bray,
As he abused and maligned the art of Poetry,
On that day he did nastily debase the rhyme,
Which unfortunately will be remembered for a very long time

His pen sped on and the muse took fright,
For it was plain to see his verse was shight,
And he was spreading foetid lyrical blight,
While witnessing this evil parody of her art so dear,
The muse did shudder with anguish and fear,
So,demoralised and sad,she began to drink beer.

He continued to pour out his verbal slurry,
As even the paper he wrote on began to worry,
It somehow sensed the clumsy phrases,
The stupid words and the verbal disgraces,
Of a god-awful poet from Dundee,
Who would fill the hearts of future generations with ennui.

Oh horrible poem of the Silv'ry Tay,
Returning to mind like some repressed abuse memory,
How I wish you would go away,
But instead I have to relive the distresses,
Of the central girders and the missing buttresses,
The tedious rhymes and the awkward verses,
From that fateful night that mcGonagle wrote those rhymes,
And in doing so committed literary crimes.

From the time this disaster was first published,
The message has spread that McGonagle is rubbish,
"Warning!Warning!Have you seen that poem-a*
It damn near sent me into a coma"*
And caused my aesthetic soul to shrivel,
Being so cruelly exposed to such wanton drivel,
In this poetic disaster that was written by that swine,
Who will have a lot of fun poked at him for a very long time.

It is a truly awful sight,
To witness in any kind of light,
This molestation of the art of Poetry,
Whose horrors exceed those of the bridge of the Tay,
Oh!Disastrous poem of the Tay,
Your reputation we will continue to flay,
By posting on the internet at least twice a day
That employing terms like "central girders"is never the way,
To endeavour to write worthwhile verse or beautiful poetry,
Had it been written with intelligence and elegance,
Perhaps then it would have made more sense,
For the better verses our Poets do build,
The less chance they have of being killed.

*this rhyme copyright mlejoy

[Edited by J-J on 9th June 2002 at 02:29]

[mlejoy]

hmm i dont know if i want my name associated with that poem.

just kidding!

that was great... very funny

you could be a famous poet - just think

and thanks for remembering that poem-a/coma was mine lol