BOB, THE SHINER.
Poem published in the
Hereford Journal - 13th November 1850
The following poem relates to an incident which occurred over 200 years ago c1800.
As the poem has 56 verses it has been split into 2 columns - Read column A and then return to the top to read column B
A
WHERE Kinsley lends a grateful shade
From summer sun's hot ray,
Where rippling o'er its pebbly bed,
Teme speeds its glittering ray.
By banks of Teme, at Kinsley's foot,
A spot most fair to see,
There lived the subject of my song,
A Knighton man was he.
No narrow mind was his, but oft,
With many a sigh, for fame
He grieved – but I have yet to say,
Bob Jenkins was his name.
Yes, oft he grieved, and thus he spoke
His mother fond, one day:
“Tell me, what can I learn or gain
“If here at home I stay.
“Dull work, dull talk, still duller jest,
“From day to day the same;
“For lads of spirit sure there is
“Some opening hence, to Fame.
“And who that's read of Whittington
“Can for a moment doubt
“Well, I'm resolved to try, at least,
“If I can find it out.
“So, but a few days more, or ere
“Our eight-day clock be down,
“And I shall speed me on the road,
“That leads to London town.
“At London, many a time I've heard,
“That talents mostly shine;
“And, if I've any luck, methinks
“At London so will mine.
“Then, when they're at their brightest, straight
“To Knighton I'll retire,
“Kitty shall be a lady – I
“A wealthy country squire.
“So I would have you all beware,
“Neighbours and friends of mine,
“For surely out of some of you
“I'll one day take the shine!”
Now, Mistress Jenkins, tho' she deemed
She was no whit behind
Her neighbour gossips, still I ween,
She had an humble mind.
An humbler mind than Bob's, at least,
So when his speech was o'er,
She knew not what to say – a case
Scarce ever known before.
But when the meaning of his words
All plainly did appear,
“Well, who'd have thought from Bob”, she cried,
“The like of that to hear?
“I never should; but much I fear,
“That you can little know
“Of all the dangers and the toil
“You'll have to undergo.
“But if resolved you are, – why then
“I'll make no more ado;
“For, Bob, you know, I've ever placed,
“My confidence in you.
“And you've a spirit, well I know,
“That for distinction burns;
“And sure you're old enough, methinks,
“To mind your own concerns.
“ Talents you have, and (tho', maybe,
“ ˈTis scarce for me to say),
“Yet, in all Knighton, sure I am
“None are more bright than they.
“I only pray, that as you wish,
“E'en so it may betide,
“But, O, above all things, take heed,
“That Prudence be your guide.
“Tho', surely, I shall grieve to part,
“Yet will my heart beat high,
“To see you a fine gentleman
“Some day before I die."
Now, tho' tis true Bob Jenkins' soul
Was on his project bent,
Still was he overjoyed to find
His mother thus content.
And soon the eventful day arrived,
A day of great renown,
When Bob, in search of wealth and fame,
Marched boldly out of town.
With leathern wallet at his side;
Of raiment, all his store
Packed in a bundle at his back,
Saving the suit he wore.
And in his hand a stout oak stick,
Right good defence I ween,
Bob Jenkins was as brave a lad
As ever could be seen.
What tears were shed, what sighs were heaved,
With many a fond farewell,
You'll doubtless picture to yourself,
Better than I can tell.
Poor Kitty fainted in his arms
Now, prithee, was it not
A bitter task for Bob's fond heart
To tear him from that spot?
But nought could shake his firm resolve
Or damp his project high,
And cheerily be spoke, altho'
A tear was in his eye.
As soon as he the threshold crossed,
(It was a mother's whim),
Dame Jenkins straight, for good luck, threw
An old shoe after him.
And as he bravely trudged away,
The boys with all their might,
“Hurrah !” did cry, “Hurrah ! for Bob,”
Till he was out of sight.
B
But when poor Bob was all alone,
And none was there to see,
How changed, alas ! – you scarce would think,
So great a change could be.
The tears fell fast, and as he reached
Each well-known stile and gate,
He kissed them all, and thus broke out
As soon on one he sate.
“Sore is my heart at leaving you,
“For many a tedious year
“Must pass;−how many I cannot tell,
“ ˈEre I again sit here”.
“But when to greatness I've attained,
“Beside a fortune fine,
“With what delight shall I return
“To make sweet Kitty mine.”
The happy thought his heart relieved,
Inspiriting anew,
And now, good friends, we'll leave him here,
His journey to pursue.
For full a week, o'er Knighton town,
A general gloom there hung,
And Bob's departure was the theme
Alike on every tongue.
His words were oft recalled to mind,
And how that he did say,
As sure as fate, I'll take the shine
Out of you all some day.
And thus did many a sire observe,
“If Bob be half as bright
“As it is said, take care, my son,
“For time may prove him right.”
But at a fortnight's end, his friends,
'Gan something wrong to fear,
For, in a week, he promised them
That they should tidings hear.
A month passed on, – another month,
And still no letter came;
Bob's mother, then, poor soul, began
Sorely herself to blame.
“O, would I'd never let him go,
“Upon that wild-goose chase;
“O, I will keep him, if again
“I ever see his face.”
Friends flock'd to comfort her, and heave
The sympathetic sigh;
“I never would have let him go,”
“No, neighbour, nor would I.”
Now so it chanced, as on a day
There drove through Brampton Brian
The Ludlow carrier, he as erst
Dismounted at the Lion:
And when to mount his cart again
This carrier did prepare,
Some hand his shoulder tapped – he turned
(And who d'ye think was there ?)
“Why, sure, it must be Bob!" says he,
“And yet it can't be so,
“For Bob is now in London town,
“He went four months ago.”
“Thither I meant to go”, says Bob,
For sure enough 'twas he;
“But, so it is, I never got
“Farther than now you see.
“For when I'd travelled long, methought
“I must be somewhere near,
“And so – ‘how many miles’ I asked,
“ ‘Is London town from here?’
“ ‘A hundred miles, and half again,’
“ ‘You don't say so,’ says I;
“Too true the words; well, down I sat,
“And straight began to cry.
“For all the hopes my fancy raised
“Were cast that moment down,
“And I foresaw, I never should
“Get sight of London town.
“Then spake the landlord of this inn,
“A kindly word spake he;
“ ‘Don't fret, said he, I'll find you work,
“ ‘So come and live with me.’
“And ever since have I been here,
“Tho' longer to remain,
“I scarce know how, for much I long
“To be at home again.”
“And well you may,” the carrier cries,
“Now pr'ythee don't say nay;
“For I'm resolved that you shall go,
“With me this very day.”
So back he went, his friends, I trow,
Did mightily rejoice;
But sure they thought it was a ghost
Until they heard his voice.
And here we'll leave him with his friends,
To tell his tale of ruth,
A piteous, wondrous tale; – and yet
Bob always told the truth.
But now his name is changed ; (in sooth
He scarce could have a finer)
And Bob is henceforth known by none
But that of "BOB, THE SHINER."
And he a wiser wight become,
No longer cared to roam;
For what he sought abroad, he found
Already his, at home.
He'd health and strength, the best of wealth,
And when he made his bride
Sweet Kitty Jones, what more, I ask,
Could Bob desire beside?
He now confess'd, though stars may shine
As brightly as the sun,
That e'en in Knighton there was room
For more to shine than one.
The above poem is founded on an incident which occurred about fifty years since at Knighton, Radnorshire, and which is circumstantially correct, with the exception of the names of the parties.