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To The Immortal Memory of the Halibut, On Which I Dined This Day, Monday, April 26, 1784 -- William Cowper

(Poem #448) To The Immortal Memory of the Halibut, On Which I Dined This Day, Monday, April 26, 1784
  Where hast thou floated, in what seas pursu'd
  Thy pastime? When wast thou an egg new spawn'd,
  Lost in the immensity of ocean's waste?
  Roar as they might, the overbearing winds
  That rock'd the deep, thy cradle, thou wast safe--
  And in thy minikin and embryo state,
  Attach'd to the firm leaf of some salt weed,
  Didst outlive tempests, such as wrung and rack'd
  The joints of many a stout and gallant bark,
  And whelm'd them in the unexplor'd abyss.
  Indebted to no magnet and no chart,
  Nor under guidance of the polar fire,
  Thou wast a voyager on many coasts,
  Grazing at large in meadows submarine,
  Where flat Batavia just emerging peeps
  Above the brine,--where Caledonia's rocks
  Beat back the surge,--and where Hibernia shoots
  Her wondrous causeway far into the main.
  --Wherever thou hast fed, thou little thought'st,
  And I not more, that I should feed on thee.
  Peace, therefore, and good health, and much good fish,
  To him who sent thee! and success, as oft
  As it descends into the billowy gulf,
  To the same drag that caught thee!--Fare thee well!
  Thy lot thy brethern of the slimy fin
  Would envy, could they know that thou wast doom'd
  To feed a bard, and to be prais'd in verse.
-- William Cowper
A wonderfully tongue-in-cheek poem, from the title[1] all the way down to
the final two lines. Cowper does a wonderful job of poking fun at some of
the cliches of nature/sea poetry, while simultaneously managing to produce a
pretty good set of verses (by no means a contradiction - images don't get to
be cliches for no reason).

And don't miss the play on 'doom'[2] in the penultimate line.

[1] curiously enough, not even the longest-titled poem we've had so far -
see the titled-in-all-earnest rival to Shelley's 'Ozymandias', poem #284

[2] not quite a pun, but a definite sense of the word being used in both its
neutral (i.e. simply 'fated') and adverse senses.


Who could forget Norman Gale's immortal "MOST ANGLERS ARE VERY HUMANE" -
Daily Paper'? poem #284

And for a rather different piece of interplay between cliches and food, see
'Caliban at Sunset', poem #408


  Cowper, William
   b. Nov. 26, 1731, Great Berkhamstead, Hertfordshire, Eng.
   d. April 25, 1800, East Dereham, Norfolk one of the most widely read
   English poets of his day, whose most characteristic work, as in The Task
   or the melodious short lyric "The Poplar Trees," brought a new directness
   to 18th-century nature poetry.

   Cowper wrote of the joys and sorrows of everyday life and was content to
   describe hedgerows, ditches, rivers, haystacks, and hares. In his
   sympathy with such phenomena, his concern for the poor and downtrodden,
   and his comparative simplicity of language, he may be seen as one in
   revolt against much 18th-century verse and as a forerunner of Robert
   Burns, William Wordsworth, and Samuel Taylor Coleridge. While he is often
   gently humorous in his verse, the tragedy that was never far below the
   surface of his mind is revealed in "The Castaway."

   After the death of his mother when he was six, Cowper (pronounced
   "Cooper"), the son of an Anglican clergyman, was sent to a local boarding
   school. He then moved to Westminster School, in London, and in 1750 began
   to study law. He was called to the bar in 1754 and took chambers in
   London's Middle Temple in 1757. During his student days he fell in love
   with his cousin, Theodora Cowper, and for a while the two were engaged.
   But Cowper was beginning to show signs of the mental instability that
   plagued him throughout his life. His father had died in 1756, leaving
   little wealth, and Cowper's family used its influence to obtain two
   administrative posts for him in the House of Lords, which entailed a
   formal examination. This prospect so disturbed him that he attempted
   suicide and was confined for 18 months in an asylum, troubled by
   religious doubts and fears and persistently dreaming of his predestined

   Religion, however, also provided the comfort of Cowper's convalescence,
   which he spent at Huntingdon, lodging with the Reverend Morley Unwin, his
   wife Mary, and their small family. Pious Calvinists, the Unwins supported
   the evangelical revival, then a powerful force in English society. In
   1767 Morley Unwin was killed in a riding accident, and his family, with
   Cowper, took up residence at Olney, in Buckinghamshire. The curate there,
   John Newton, a leader of the revival, encouraged Cowper in a life of
   practical evangelism; however, the poet proved too frail, and his doubt
   and melancholy returned. Cowper collaborated with Newton on a book of
   religious verse, eventually published as Olney Hymns (1779).

   In 1773 thoughts of marriage with Mary Unwin were ended by Cowper's
   relapse into near madness. When he recovered the following year, his
   religious fervour was gone. Newton departed for London in 1780, and
   Cowper again turned to writing poetry; Mrs. Unwin suggested the theme for
   "The Progress of Error," six moral satires. Other works, such as
   "Conversation" and "Retirement," reflected his comparative cheerfulness
   at this time.

   Cowper was friendly with Lady Austen, a widow living nearby, who told him
   a story that he made into a ballad, "The Journey of John Gilpin," which
   was sung all over London after it was printed in 1783. She also playfully
   suggested that he write about a sofa--an idea that grew into The Task.
   This long discursive poem, written "to recommend rural ease and leisure,"
   was an immediate success on its publication in 1785. Cowper then moved to
   Weston, a neighbouring village, and began translating Homer. His health
   suffered under the strain, however, and there were occasional periods of
   mental illness. His health continued to deteriorate, and in 1795 he moved
   with Mary Unwin to live near a cousin in Norfolk, finally settling at
   East Dereham. Mrs. Unwin, a permanent invalid since 1792, died in
   December 1796, and Cowper sank into despair from which he never emerged.

   Robert Southey edited his writings in 15 volumes between 1835 and 1837.
   Cowper is also considered one of the best letter writers in English, and
   some of his hymns, such as "God Moves in a Mysterious Way" and "Oh! For a
   Closer Walk with God," have become part of the folk heritage of
   Protestant England. The Letters and Prose Writings, in two volumes,
   edited by James King and Charles Ryskamp, was published in 1979-80.

        -- EB

- martin

2 comments: ( or Leave a comment )

Suresh Ramasubramanian said...

Thus spake Martin Julian DeMello :

>'To The Immortal Memory of the Halibut, On Which I Dined This Day,
> Monday, April 26, 1784'

ROFLMAO!! This one belongs right at the top, with "Macavity" (till now,
my favorite humorous poem).

Did you read Cowper's "John Gilpin"? It's in Panorama, fwiw. Longish,
but a good laugh all the same.

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