Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, OUR LADY'S CHAPEL; A LEGEND OF COBLENTZ, by THOMAS HOOD


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

OUR LADY'S CHAPEL; A LEGEND OF COBLENTZ, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Whoe'er has crossed the mosel bridge
Last Line: Only light up one taper at a time.
Subject(s): Churches; Coblentz, Germany; Cathedrals


WHOE'ER has crossed the Mosel Bridge,
And mounted by the fort of Kaiser Franz,
Has seen, perchance,
Just on the summit of St. Peter's ridge,
A little open chapel to the right,
Wherein the tapers aye are burning bright;
So popular, indeed, this holy shrine,
At least among the female population,
By night, or at high noon, you see it shine,
A very Missal for illumination!

Yet, when you please, at morn or eve, go by
All other Chapels, standing in the fields,
Whose mouldy, wifeless husbandry but yields
Beans, peas, potatoes, mangel-wurzel, rye,
And lo! the Virgin, lonely, dark, and hush,
Without the glimmer of a farthing rush!

But on Saint Peter's Hill
The lights are burning, burning, burning still.
In fact, it is a pretty retail trade
To furnish forth the candles ready made;
And close beside the chapel and the way,
A chandler, at her stall, sits day by day,
And sells, both long and short, the waxen tapers
Smarten'd with tinsel-foil and tinted papers.

To give of the mysterious truth an inkling,
Those who in this bright chapel breathe a prayer
To "Unser Frow," and burn a taper there,
Are said to get a husband "in a twinkling:"
Just as she-glowworms, if it be not scandal,
Catch partners with their matrimonial candle.

How kind of blessed saints in heaven --
Where none in marriage, we are told, are given --
To interfere below in making matches,
And help old maidens to connubial catches!
The truth is, that instead of looking smugly
(At least, so whisper wags satirical)
The votaries are all so old and ugly,
No man could fall in love but by a miracle.

However, that such waxen gifts and vows
Are sometimes for the purpose efficacious,
In helping to a spouse,
Is vouch'd for by a story most veracious.
A certain Woman, though in name a wife,
Yet doom'd to lonely life,
Her truant husband having been away
Nine years, two months, a week, and half a day, --
Without remembrances by words or deeds, --
Began to think she had sufficient handle
To talk of widowhood and burn her weeds --
Of course with a wax-candle.
Sick, single-handed with the world to grapple,
Weary of solitude, and spleen, and vapours,
Away she hurried to Our Lady's Chapel,
Full-handed with two tapers --
And pray'd as she had never pray'd before,
To be a bona fide wife once more.
"Oh Holy Virgin! listen to my prayer!
And for sweet mercy, and thy sex's sake,
Accept the vows and offerings I make --
Others set up one light, but here's a pair!"

Her prayer, it seem'd, was heard;
For in three little weeks, exactly reckon'd,
As blithe as any bird,
She stood before the Priest with Hans the Second; --
A fact that made her gratitude so hearty,
To "Unser Frow," and her propitious shrine,
She sent two waxen candles superfine,
Long enough for a Lapland evening party!

Rich was the Wedding Feast and rare --
What sausages were there!
Of sweets and sours there was a perfect glut:
With plenteous liquors to wash down good cheer
Brantwein, and Rhum, Kirsch-wasser, and Krug Bier,
And wine so sharp that ev'ry one was cut.
Rare was the feast -- but rarer was the quality
Of mirth, of smoky-joke, and song, and toast, --
When just in all the middle of their jollity --
With bumpers fill'd to hostess and to host,
And all the unborn branches of their house,
Unwelcome and unasked, like Banquo's Ghost,
In walk'd the long-lost Spouse!

What pen could ever paint
The hubbub when the Hubs were thus confronted!
The bridesmaids fitfully began to faint;
The bridesmen stared -- some whistled and some grunted:
Fierce Hans the First look'd like a boar that's hunted;
Poor Hans the Second like a suckling calf:
Meanwhile, confounded by the double miracle,
The two-fold bride sobb'd out, with tears hysterical,
"Oh Holy Virgin, you're too good -- by half!"

MORAL.

Ye Coblenz maids, take warning by the rhyme,
And as our Christian laws forbid polygamy
For fear of bigamy,
Only light up one taper at a time.





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