Loyola University Maryland - Evergreen / Green and Gray Yearbook (Baltimore, MD)

Page 33 text:

THE LOYOLA ANNUAL 23 “His death, which happened in his berth, At forty odd befell: They went and told the sexton, and The sexton tolled the bell.” Saxe also has bent his efforts in this direction, as did Edwin Lear in his “Nonsense Songs and the results of their endeav- ors help to enliven many a dull evening for their readers. This species of rhyme likewise serves other purposes, filling up a good portion of the college-papers and magazines of the day, while at the same time it has been used extensively for advertising. The general type that abounds in the college publications runs largely to limericks, much more so than other styles, and is something like this: “There was a young lady of Lynn, Who was so exceedingly thin. That when she essayed To drink lemonade, She slipped through the straw, and fell in.” But some of the best examples of doggerel are found in the comic papers, especially the rhym.es of the famous Jingling Johnson, which appear in the Sunday supplements. They dis- play such an utter lack of sense, of coherence, and, in fact, of everything that they ought to have, that they amuse by their very incongruity. And lastly, as an example of its use as an advertising medium I might cite a four-lined squib, often seen in the streetcars of today, extolling the praises of “Campbell’s Soups:” “The bowl v as large, the boy was small. They said he couldn’t eat it all: But that’s exactly what he did Because he was a Campbell Kid.”

Page 32 text:

22 THE LOYOLA ANNUAL Suggml, mh pnrtrg. O many minds the word “poetry” conveys an uncertain, indefinite meaning, and seems to cover every species of rhythm that the intellect of man has ever evolved. Many peo- ple like to read the limericks and squibs of the daily papers and the magazines; some delight in dashing poems of daring adventure; other heartsick maidens “love” the sentimental lyrics; v hile certain persons get the pamphlets of “poems” issued by the many budding authors around town — such as Prof. Geddes, for instance — , and devour their contents with pleasure ; but all, no matter what style they prefer, de- clare that they “just dote on poetry,” and they think that their taste for good literature is exceedingly well developed. But their conception of the word “poetry” is too broad. They include under this division writings that should fall under the heading of verse or doggerel; and this notwithstanding the fact that these species of rhyme are entirely distinct from the afore-named one. Doggerel itself may be considered as separated into two classes — the intentional and the unintentional. Hood has writ- ten a number of works which were meant to be doggerel, and the mind of the reader, entering into the spirit of the author, enjoys the “poems” greatly. The following is the last stanza of one of his well-known successor, and illustrates how he often makes use of a play on words, or a comical combination of ideas. It relates the sad end of an old sailor, who, after several years on the sea, returned only to find his sweetheart married to another m an ; and thereupon died of grief.

Page 34 text:

24 THE LOYOLA ANNUAL Not much sense or beauty in it, is there? Generally speak- ing, doggerel is merely a jingling combination of words, the more nonsensical the better, that pleases at first by its novelty, but produces no lasting impression : sweet for the moment, but short as it is sweet. Often men write doggerel, and under the impression that it is good poetry, publish it broadcast throughout the land. They are making a great hit, they imagine ; but in reality they are merely making fools of themselves. A good instance of this is the Brotherhood of American Poets, which was llately formed in this city, and of which the afore — mentioned Prof. Geddes is a leading member. The next division, verse, is somewhat more elegant and more refined than doggerel. But there is always something lack- ing to distinguish it from real poetry — some emotion that we instinctively feej it ought to have. Many of Pope ' s works are such, beautiful in language and style, but at the same time cold and lifeless, simply because they lack the moving emotion. Often in the newspapers we run across such rhymes, excellent in form, but without any deep thought, or vice versa. The fol- lowing is one of the Bentztown Bard ' s, which appeared in the Baltimore Sun: “There may be beauty beyond us. There may be gladness and smile — But rather the joy of the present Than the dreams of the afterwhile. And he is the happiest mortal Who feels that his Paradise Is here and now in the beauty That over and round him lies.” The sentiment is that of the true poet, but the rhythm and metre are somewhat lacking. And this is precisely the differ-