John Aubrey, Digressor
A limerick is primed in the Air
Yet the Rhyme may be lost on the Stair.
Aubrey’s Lives are like flowers
Overbrimming their Bowers
While Digression at sea sets all Fair.
The Limerick, unsuited at times,
Might yet, through extravagant rhymes,
Serve John Aubrey’s Chief Stress –
Hearsay’s Randomness –
And sail in exceptional Climes.
Unfortunate Edward de Vere!
Bowing low to the Queen (so I hear)
He let forth a Fart
So felt forced to depart
Overseas for many a year.
Returning at last, poor de Vere
Was received by the Queen that same year,
Who, as he bowed low,
Said, “I want you to know
I had forgot the Fart, my Dear.”
Will Shakespeare steps out of his house and
Salutes as he raises his brows and
Says, “Never blotted a line.”
But Ben Jonson quaffs wine
And scorns, “Would he had blotted a thousand.”
The circles of dusk-shadowed thrones
Stand at Avebury’s Greywether Stones
Like sheep in a Frame
(Thus Greywether by name) –
What Amazement to tread in these Zones!
Meeting Cowley, King Charles suggests cards,
But the poet cries, “No! Play at Shards,
That is, dip into Vergil
As a comforting vigil;
Look! Book Four from the greatest of Bards!”
Rising far to the South the pale moon
In December is frosted with Shine.
And as minstrels light fires
Along forest aisle Choirs
The Green Man engenders his Swoon.
Sir John Suckling, the Poet and Wit
Devised Cribbage, and earned much from it.
By secret card Marks
When contesting young Sparks,
He made thousands of pounds with this Fit.
Robert Hooke, who gave Newton advice
On the Inverse Square Law (“Be precise!”)
Watched with Aubrey in tune
An Eclipse of the moon
Which both Savants opined had been Nice.
They agreed that the moon seemed oblate,
All the more so regaining its Weight;
The eclipse having passed,
The Effect seemed to last
With recovery slow at this rate.
And how beautiful was that In-dent
Which the earth shadow cast on its tent
So each night this persists
Even after these Lists
And the Light from the moon appears bent.
All this seemed an Emblem of Memory –
The moon returning more Shimmery –
For its edges were glassed
As if slow days had passed
In the minutes it hid in its Armoury.
Edmund Halley, who lived by the stars
Understood well the Orbit of Mars.
And the Comet he named
Returned and was famed.
He died drinking wine from a vase.
Richard Lovelace, renowned for his Face,
Passing beautiful, worthy of Lace –
But he grew into Sorrows
Which took all his Tomorrows
And all that he Loved lost its Place.
Boys Learn best to twelve years, then it’s Worse,
After which Venus intervenes. Yes!
I have tried to teach Latin
But encountered this Pattern –
His hand on his Codpiece, Alas!
Signs and Wonders abound. Give an Inch
And Superstition takes Miles at a Pinch:
Lady Seymour has dreams
Of nine finches – then, it seems,
Has nine children by Someone named Finch.
In those lost days of calm just before
The cruel, Unjust Civil War,
Every house had its Harper,
Which with Verse was made sharper…
Now our Peace has been swept out the Door.
In that Hypocrite’s Rule without King
They denied every natural thing;
Songs and Maypoles were Banned
All across our poor land
Till King Charles brought again Sprightly Spring.
I never saw Maypoles so tall
As after the Republic’s blest Fall;
And as far as Lands End
Hilltop fires blaze and send
To the King, now restored, loyal Thrall.
A feather remote in the Air –
As I travelled through Stonehenge to stare
And make notes on its graves
And record Stones and Staves –
Still was floating above in that Glare.
I have heard that such Marvels abound
As the man whom an Oak sent to ground;
In his tomb’s winding sheet
He is struck on the feet
Which Blow sends his Brain back to redound.
Weeks before the King’s Indignation
I engendered my rapt Indagation
Amongst Avebury Stone
Which the gods must have thrown
Or cast down in a great Inundation.
The last Abbesse expelled from Connaughty
Was given a life pension. She was haughty;
She then lived in a Henge
And took her revenge
By living to a hundred-and-forty.
All of Wiltshire is like a Mapped Church
Where long Aisles are surrounded by Birch.
What are now Aubrey Graves
Some prefer to call Naves
But none could Surpass my Research.
George Monk, Duke – thinks aloud as we dine:
“On board ship a young man seemed to pine,
‘My sister brought to bed,
I would be there instead –
She’s my Wife and the Infant is mine.’”
He who masters the Mathematick Art
And Whom Algebra crowns with its Spate,
When he sees the moon’s Span,
He sees little more than
Mixed Equations set out, but less Light.
There were smiles at this Whimsical Flight
To thwart a loud and cock-a-hoop Lout:
Trousers stolen by night
Were returned much let out
So next day the Fool feared he’d lost Weight.
When the fairies cry Hattock and Horse
They mean mischief. The Reverend George Morse
Was at Old Lincolns Inn
When he heard their shrill din
And was whisked away, soon to be Norse.
Francis Bacon obtaining a hen
Steps out in the snow-shrouded sun
To test whether snow
Could preserve it or no –
But then falls into Death’s cold ravine.
Be truthful, avoid vain pretension;
Allow Strangeness its adequate mention.
Let my narrative hearth
Meet the long forest path
Of Discursion and endless Invention.
And no matter how much I Digress
There is More I would wish still to stress,
Like a man on his lawn
Seeing forests at dawn
And whose Limits he only must guess.
My friend, Thomas Hobbes, had turned forty
Before he considered Geometry –
As may quite often Happen
Euclid’s Elements fell open
In a library, which encouraged a sortie.
There he studied a Trope which seemed Odd
And throwing it down cried, “By God!
This cannot be true!”
Yet he read the Proof through
And exclaimed, “Here’s my Wholehearted Nod!”
So much so, that I afterwards heard
He was ardent; True Shape was his Creed:
He drew Lines on his thigh,
Or made bedsheets his Sky,
On which Theorems crisscrossed like an Ode.
Aware of the Threat of the Tower
It was Prudent to act in the Hour;
Hobbes withdrew into France
Where he seized every chance
To compose at the Peak of his Power.
There he walked much, purposing to Think.
In the crest of his Staff he brought ink
And a pen. In his book
He would note down each Nook
Before fugitive Thought thought to Shrink.
And my Friend did not read over-much,
For he liked to say, Staying-inTouch
He would, rather than Shaman,
Listen long to a Woman
Who had tended the Sick on their couch.
His Mother had birthed of a sudden,
Fearing Spaniards offshore. Now his Garden
Turned silent and sere
In his ninety-first year
But his Mind’s Voice continued to Louden.
We are still in that fortunate era
When everyone has his own aura;
Thus the Scientist-Seer,
Numbers-Poet with Flare –
While the Specialist is No-One’s Torchbearer.
I had so many ideas to chart,
I would often leave gaps in my Art.
I feared others might use
My fragmentary Muse –
Unconverted still, Head out of Heart.
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