File:Punch (1841) (14751359236).jpg

Identifier: punchv40lemo (find matches)
Title: Punch
Year: 1841 (1840s)
Authors: Lemon, Mark, 1809-1870 Mayhew, Henry, 1812-1887 Taylor, Tom, 1817-1880 Brooks, Shirley, 1816-1874 Burnand, F. C. (Francis Cowley), 1836-1917 Seaman, Owen, 1861-1936
Subjects: English wit and humor English wit and humor, Pictorial
Publisher: (London) : (Punch Publications Ltd., etc.)
Contributing Library: Lincoln Financial Foundation Collection
Digitizing Sponsor: The Institute of Museum and Library Services through an Indiana State Library LSTA Grant

View Book Page: Book Viewer
About This Book: Catalog Entry
View All Images: All Images From Book
Click here to view book online to see this illustration in context in a browseable online version of this book.

Text Appearing Before Image:
ed wit, Use thou no ink wherewith to pen thy scoff:We 11 find a liquor for thy pen more fit— We blood-drops—see how smartly thouIt round offPoint, pun and paragraph in this new way:Till men shall read and laugh, and, laughing, say,1 Well thrust! Punch is in vein: tis his red-letter day. < The weight sat on my quill: I could not write; The red drops clustered to my pen—in vain;I had my theme— Brothers that meet in fight, Yet shed no blood! —my jesting mood turned pain.I thought of all that civil love endears,That civil strife breaks up and rends and sears,And lo! the blood-drops in my pen were changed to tears! And for the hoarse tongues that those bloody gouts Had found, or seemed to find, upon my earsCame up a gentle song in linked bouts, Of long-drawn sweetness—pity breathed through tears. And thus they sang— Twas not by chance, Still less by fraud or fear,That Sumters battle came and closed, Nor cost the world a tear, PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.—May 11, 1861.
Text Appearing After Image:
THE AMERICAN DIFFICULTY. President Abe. WHAT A NICE WHITE HOUSE THIS WOULD BE, IF IT WERE NOT EOR THE BLACKS ! Mat 11, 1861.) PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 195 Twas not that Northern hearts were weak, Or Southern courage cold,That shell and shot fell harming not A man on shore or hold. It was that all their ghosts who lived To love the realm they made,Came fleeting so athwart the fire, That shot and shell were staid.Washington with his sad still face, Franklin with silver hair,Lincoln and Putnam, Allan, Gates, And gallant Wayne were there. With those who rose at Boston, At Philadelphia met;Whose grave eyes saw the Unions seal To their first charter set.Adams, and Jay, and Henry, Rotjtledge and Randolph, too— And many a name their countrys fameHath sealed brave, wise, and true. An awful host—above the coast, About the fort, they hung;Sad faces pale, too proud to wail, But, with sore anguish wrung.And Paith and Truth, and Love and Ruth, Hovered the battle oer,Hindring the shot, th

Note About Images