Saturday, January 3, 2026

The Magic Cap

by William Allingham.

Originally published in Leigh Hunt's Journal (Edward Moxon) vol.1 #3 (21 Dec 1850).


                I don this Magic Cap of mine,
                Whereon the sun's forbid to shine,
                Which takes a hundred shapes, more swift
                Than an air-tost cloud can shift.
                It shoots to point, or spreads to brim;
                Cocks itself to courtly trim;
                Jockey roundness can assume;
                Or sprout a noble Knightly Plume;
                Roughen up, like cat in passion;
                Aretie smooth to Paris fashion;
                Nipt below and flattened square,
                Turn to grave Collegiate wear;
                Rise with added touch of brightness
                Into Lancer's toyish lightness;
                Then, relapsed to colours sadder,
                Flap down, like a Jacob's Ladder,
                As on broad Coalheaver's nape;
                Spin wide round to Quaker shape;
                By heat o' the brain curl'd up as soon
                To Helmet, fit for bold Dragoon.
                It splits: a Mitre it appears;
                Then opens into Ass's Ears;
                Droops, and lo! a Learned Wig;
                Shrinks to a Cue; again looks big
                When three long Tails from one unfold,
                Twist like snakes, and lie uproll'd,
                A Turban huge: it fades to air,
                And saintly Rays are shooting there
                Around my head ;—not Rays at all,
                But Quills that mark a Cannibal!
                They bristle up, they strangely wax
                To Three Hats in St. Mary Axe.
                No, no! I see it plainer now,
                St. Peter's, and upon my brow
                The tall tiara presses tight;
                To bear and balance it aright
                Asks clever juggling. Take it off!
                I start: my Magic Cap I doff.

                My Magic Cap has ceased to fit.
                I hope I shall not lose with it
                The gift therein presented to me:
                Freedom of a City, gloomy,
                Lively, populous, silent, vast,
                Built on a river of the Past,
                Where long-set suns and wanèd moons
                Make the mystic nights and noons,
                And people lost from Life I meet
                Walking up and down the street;
                Strange as the City of Enchanters
                Some wandering king at nightfall enters,
                In those regions dim and dread
                Beyond the Sea of Darkness spread.

Saint-Germain-En-Laye

1887-1895 by Ernest Dowson. Originally published in The Savoy (Leonard Smithers) vol. 1 # 2 (Apr 1896).                 Through the g...