VERY HARD LINES. How They Were Written to Order.

Te Aroha News, Volume V, Issue 207, 18 June 1887, Page 3

VERY HARD LINES. How They Were Written to Order.

9 a.m.— Botiher the Jubilee. What, in the namo of fortune, can one do with such a rubbishing subject ? But here's Macmillan waiting, and I haven't done a single line yet. Must get something put on to paper, if only to quiet him. But how on earth to begin. Get in " fifty" somehow. Want fifty somethings that come but once a year. Christmas? Good. That suggests Clown. I have it. Fifty times the Clown has grinned and tumbled No. That won't do. It's two shoppy> slagoy. Has a soupcon of the " Promise of May " about it. Wants something wider. , Ha ! The Row suggesting the Season, of course. Fifty times the Row has filled and emptied. No. Don't like it. Heads as if I was talking of a cistern. Too heavy. Try something lighter. Pastry? Feathers? Flowers ? Ha ! that's it. Flowers of course. Here, I've got it. Fifty times the Rose has flowered and faded. Anyhow, that'll do to go off with. Let's see. I want fifty something-elses to follow it up with. What shall it be ? Caitloads ? Handfuls ? Armfuls 7 Autumns ? Harvests ? Food again. Not that there's any precise connection between them ; but one must stick down something. How'll this do? Fifty times the golden harvest fallen. Yes, that reads all right. Is there any I other way of putting "fittyV" Yes, " twice twenty-five." But that won't come in. Then there's " four times twelve and a half." No; that won't do. Enough "fifty." Now we want some allusion to Tier Majesty. Must got in a " since." I have it, " Since our Queen assumed." Capital. Here you are ! Since our Queen assumed the globe, the sceptre. Come ; that's a beginning anyhow. Three lines? But they've quite dried mo up. Besides 1 can't go on in blank verso like this. Don't feel up to it. Must try another metre. What metre ? And then what on earth am Ito r-ay in it ? I haven't had such a job as *his for a long time. i Could weep over it. A precious Ode 1 shall make of it. For though I know not anything, Yet must I not my lot upbraid ; Since as the Laureate I am paid, And, being paid, am bound to sing. But, "a glass of sherry will make me merry." I'll cry one. G p.m.— Confound the Jubilee Ode ! Have now been at it all day, and am floundering worse than ever. Have got in something about illuminations, sanitary improvements, subscribing to a Hospital and Penny Dinners, and given a kind of backhander to C4eorge the Third, but who on earth, 1 refer to as the " Patriot Architect," and what I mean by asking him to Shape a stately memorial, Make it regularly — no, " regally,''— gorgeous, Some Imperial Institute, I don't know. Butif I arrange it in parallel lines it will look Ike oetry, and that'll be near enough. Feol I'm making horrible nash of it. Might go for a wrn on my bicycle. May clear my head. Might try it. Will. Have dined, and now, at 9 p.m., have again settled down to it over a pipe and a glass of grog. Am in a more hopeless middle than ever. Trying to bring in everybody in a wind-up-appeal. But look at this — You, the snubbed, the unfortunate, You the Lord-Undertaker, You, the Lord Omnibus-Conductor, That doesn't seem to run very well, but it's the kind of idea I want to work in. Don't seem able to manage it. You, the Lady- Amateur Actor? No, that won't do. Shall never get it done to-night. 10 p.m.— After awful hammering managed to knock off two more lines. Head spinning, but must stick to it. Feel I've never turned out such stuff in my life before. Hopeless. 10.30 p. m.— Two more lines screwed out. But what lines. Won't scan, and as to rhyme— ha ! ha ! - cabch me rhyming tonight. 11 p.m. -Have come to a dead standstill. Equal to it. Have had recourse to the wet towel. Refi'eshes me. Ha, I see light. Happy thought. As I can't do it in verse, why not write it all in prose, and then cut it up into poetry afterwards. Sure to get cut up when it appears. Why not do it myself first ? I will, anyhow, here goes. Midnight. — Done ik Labelled it. •'Carmen Steculare." Looks all right, but quite the toughest piece of work 1 ye ever had to turn out. Posted it to Maemillan. Hope he'll like it.— Leaf from a Laureate's Biary. "Punch."