On Her Departure for Calais
When little people go abroad, wherever they may roam,They will not just be treated as they used to be at home;So take a few promiscuous hints, to warn you in advance,Of how a little English girl will perhaps be served in France.
Of course you will be Frenchified; and first, it's my belief,They'll dress you in their foreign style as a-la-mode as beef,With a little row of beehives, as a border to your frock,And a pair of frilly trousers, like a little bantam cock.
But first they'll seize your bundle (if you have one) in a crack,And tie it with a tape by way of bustle on your back;And make your waist so high or low, your shape will be a riddle,For anyhow you'll never have your middle in the middle.
Your little English sandals for a while will hold together,But woe betide you when the stones have worn away the leather;For they'll poke your little pettitoes (and there will be a hobble!)In such a pair of shoes as none but carpenters can cobble!
What next?--to fill your head with French to match the native girls,In scraps of Galignani they'll screw up your little curls;And they'll take their nouns and verbs, and some bits of verse and prose,And pour them in your ears that you may spout them through your nose.
You'll have to learn a chou is quite another sort of thingTo that you put your foot in; that a belle is not to ring;That a corne is not the nubble that brings trouble to your toes;Nor peut-etre a potato, as some Irish folks suppose.No, No, they have no Murphies there, for supper or for lunch,
But you may get in course of time a pomme de terre to munch,With which, as you perforce must do as Calais folks are doing,You'll maybe have to gobble up the frog that went a wooing!
But pray at meals, remember this, the French are so polite,No matter what you eat or drink, "whatever is, is right!"So when you're told at dinner-time that some delicious stewIs cat instead of rabbit, you must answer "Tant mi--eux!"
For little folks who go abroad, wherever they may roam,They cannot just be treated as they used to be at home;So take a few promiscuous hints, to warn you in advance,Of how a little English girl will perhaps be served in France!
Words in this poem 18
- wherever adv.
- At or in whatever place; wheresoever.
- bantam n.
- A variety of small barnyard fowl, with feathered legs, probably brought from Bantam, a district of Java.
- anyhow adv.
- In any way or manner whatever; at any rate; in any event.
- betide v. t.
- To happen to; to befall; to come to ; as, woe betide the wanderer. [OE. bitiden; pref. bi-, be- + tiden, fr. AS. tidan, to happen, fr. tid time. See Tide.]
- pettitoes n.
- The toes or feet of a pig, -- often used as food; sometimes, in contempt, the human feet. [Petty + toes.]
- cobble n.
- A fishing boat. See Coble.
- belle n.
- A young lady of superior beauty and attractions; a handsome lady, or one who attracts notice in society; a fair lady. [F. belle, fem. of bel, beau, beautiful, fine. See Beau.]
- nubble v. t.
- To beat or bruise with the fist. Ainsworth. [Cf. LG. nubben to knock, cuff.]
- folks n.
- In Anglo-Saxon times, the people of a group of townships or villages; a community; a tribe. [AS. folc; akin to D. volk, OS. & OHG. folk, G. volk, Icel. f, Sw. & Dan. folk, Lith. pulkas crowd, and perh. to E. follow.]
- lunch n.
- A luncheon; specifically, a light repast between breakfast and dinner. [Of uncertain etymol. Cf. Prov. Eng. nunc a lump.]
- pomme a.
- Having the ends terminating in rounded protuberances or single balls; -- said of a cross. [F. See Pomey.]
- munch v. t.
- To chew with a grinding, crunching sound, as a beast chews provender; to chew deliberately or in large mouthfuls. [Formerly written also maunch and mounch.] [Prob. akin to mumble: cf. also F. manger to eat (cf. Mange), and mâcher to cher (cf. Masticate). See Mumble.]
- perforce v. t.
- To force; to compel.
- maybe adv.
- Perhaps; possibly; peradventure. [For it may be.]
- gobble v. t.
- To swallow or eat greedily or hastily; to gulp. [Freq. of 2d gob.]
- went n.
- Course; way; path; journey; direction.
- polite a.
- Smooth; polished. [L. politus, p. p. of polire to polish: cf. F. poli. See Polish, v.]
- tant n.
- A small scarlet arachnid. [Cf. Taint tincture.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
On Her Departure for Calais is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Poetical Works of Thomas Hood, Project Gutenberg ebook #15652; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Thomas Hood, On Her Departure for Calais, in The Song of the Shirt, and Other Poems (1826–1845), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #15652, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/hood-poetical-works/on-her-departure-for-calais.html, id L20193.
Form and metre
On Her Departure for Calais is 36 lines in 9 stanzas. The rhyme scheme is AABB, complete in 6 of its 9 stanzas. The metre is iambic heptameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 88%).
See other poems in iambic heptameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 AABB roamA · homeA · advanceB · franceB
- 2 AABB beliefA · beefA · frockB · cockB
- 3 AABB crackA · backA · riddleB · middleB
- 4 AABB togetherA · leatherA · hobbleB · cobbleB
- 5 AABB girlsA · curlsA · proseB · noseB
- 6 AABB- thingA · ringA · toesB · supposeB · lunch
- 7 -AA munch · doingA · wooingA
- 8 AA-- politeA · rightA · stew · eux
- 9 AABB roamA · homeA · advanceB · franceB
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic heptameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| When little people go abroad, wherever they may roam, | 14 | ·/˘/˘·˘/˘/˘··· |
| They will not just be treated as they used to be at home; | 14 | ·····/˘······· |
| So take a few promiscuous hints, to warn you in advance, | 14 | ····/˘˘·····˘/ |
| Of how a little English girl will perhaps be served in France. | 15 | ···/˘/˘··˘/···· |
| Of course you will be Frenchified; and first, it's my belief, | 13 | ···········˘/ |
| They'll dress you in their foreign style as a-la-mode as beef, | 14 | ·····/˘······· |
| With a little row of beehives, as a border to your frock, | 15 | ··/˘··/···/˘··· |
| And a pair of frilly trousers, like a little bantam cock. | 14 | ····/˘/··/˘/˘· |
| But first they'll seize your bundle (if you have one) in a crack, | 14 | ·····/˘······· |
| And tie it with a tape by way of bustle on your back; | 14 | ·········/˘··· |
| And make your waist so high or low, your shape will be a riddle, | 15 | ·············/˘ |
| For anyhow you'll never have your middle in the middle. | 15 | ·/˘··/˘··/˘··/˘ |
| Your little English sandals for a while will hold together, | 15 | ·/˘/˘/˘·····˘/˘ |
| But woe betide you when the stones have worn away the leather; | 15 | ··˘/······˘/·/˘ |
| For they'll poke your little pettitoes (and there will be a hobble!) | 16 | ····/˘/˘˘·····/˘ |
| In such a pair of shoes as none but carpenters can cobble! | 15 | ·········/˘˘·/˘ |
| What next?--to fill your head with French to match the native girls, | 14 | ···········/˘· |
| In scraps of Galignani they'll screw up your little curls; | 14 | ···········/˘· |
| And they'll take their nouns and verbs, and some bits of verse and prose, | 14 | ·············· |
| And pour them in your ears that you may spout them through your nose. | 14 | ·············· |
| You'll have to learn a chou is quite another sort of thing | 14 | ········˘/˘··· |
| To that you put your foot in; that a belle is not to ring; | 14 | ·············· |
| That a corne is not the nubble that brings trouble to your toes; | 15 | ······/˘··/˘··· |
| Nor peut-etre a potato, as some Irish folks suppose. | 14 | ····˘/···/˘·˘/ |
| No, No, they have no Murphies there, for supper or for lunch, | 14 | ·····/˘··/˘··· |
| But you may get in course of time a pomme de terre to munch, | 15 | ···········/˘·· |
| With which, as you perforce must do as Calais folks are doing, | 15 | ····˘/···˘/··/˘ |
| You'll maybe have to gobble up the frog that went a wooing! | 15 | ·/˘··/˘······/˘ |
| But pray at meals, remember this, the French are so polite, | 14 | ····˘/˘·····˘/ |
| No matter what you eat or drink, "whatever is, is right!" | 14 | ·/˘······/˘··· |
| So when you're told at dinner-time that some delicious stew | 14 | ·····/˘···˘/˘· |
| Is cat instead of rabbit, you must answer "Tant mi--eux!" | 14 | ··˘/·/˘··/˘··· |
| For little folks who go abroad, wherever they may roam, | 14 | ·/˘···˘/˘/˘··· |
| They cannot just be treated as they used to be at home; | 14 | ·/˘··/˘······· |
| So take a few promiscuous hints, to warn you in advance, | 14 | ····/˘˘·····˘/ |
| Of how a little English girl will perhaps be served in France! | 15 | ···/˘/˘··˘/···· |
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