Tag: Sherlockian poetry

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The Hound and the Bittern: A Sherlockian Sonnet by William S Dorn

The Hound and the Bittern

In the days of yore the old tales tell,
Of a spectral hound Sir Hugo much did dread.
It followed him till last he fell,
Then tore at his throat until he was quite dead.

Anon Sir Charles by the moor he did wait.
Next morn the gentle man’s remains were found.
He laid face down quite near a lonely gate,
Beside him prints of a gigantic hound.

Then Watson came to Baskerville, the Hall,
He strolled the moor and heard a frightening noise.
One man did say it was a bittern’s call,
So fierce it was the doctor lost his poise.

Alas it was the massive hound that glows,
In phosphor spread in globs from jowls to nose.

Illustration of a bittern swallowing a frog from A History of British Birds, 1st Edition, 1843, by William Yarrell
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“221b (1887-1987)”

“221b (1887-1987)”, from Baker Street Miscellanea, 1987

Coin of ours can never ransom
Years now prisoners to Time;
Roars the bus, where once the hansom
Trotted on the trail of crime.

Found in Quotations from Baker Street, a wonderful booklet edited by
Christopher Redmond, JHWS “Buster”

Posted by Chips, I hope you all who read this enjoy.

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The Hound and the Bittern: A Sherlockian Sonnet by William S Dorn

I found a Sherlockian sonnet written by William S Dorn, BSI, DWNP, who is so talented in his writings. A member of our local society and a man who does me the high honor of calling me his friend. I am sure after you read this you will agree with me as to the high quality of his work.

The Hound and the Bittern

In the days of yore the old tales tell,
Of a spectral hound Sir Hugo much did dread.
It followed him till last he fell,
Then tore at his throat until he was quite dead.

Anon Sir Charles by the moor he did wait.
Next morn the gentle man’s remains were found.
He laid face down quite near a lonely gate,
Beside him prints of a gigantic hound.

Then Watson came to Baskerville, the Hall,
He strolled the moor and heard a frightening noise.
One man did say it was a bittern’s call,
So fierce it was the doctor lost his poise.

Alas it was the massive hound that glows,
In phosphor spread in globs from jowls to nose.

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Ballad of Sherlock Holmes

There is no event on file for August 21st, but let’s consider these words:

And to this day we read of them
their ventures have no end.

(Kredens, Diane. “The Ballad of Sherlock Holmes,” BSP, No. 30 (December 1967), 1.)

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Ron Lies “Chips” Sonnet of the Week

“Chips” sends along something a bit different from his weekly limerick: a sonnet by Helene Yuhasova (pen name of Edgar W. Smith, BSI) written in 1946.

John H Watson to Sherlock Holmes

You are a benefactor of the race;
Warrant and symbol of our land’s content:
A Sword that strikes in evil’s darkest place,
The law’s oblique, incisive instrument.
For this you have the nation’s accolade
In grateful token of the wrongs redressed–
But when your donative is fully weighted
Not England, but the world will call you blest.

For you have given us escape today
From threats that lie against our lives and pelf;
While thru the days to come you’ll show the way
To find elusion from the world.
This is the benefaction I’ve designed:
To give you to the ages of mankind

From the pamphlet: A Lauriston Garden of Verses by Helene Yuhasova;
published by The Pamphlet House, Summit, New Jersey, 1946 

 

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OK, Here’s the Answer:

The Sonnet came from a pamphlet titled A Lauriston Garden Of Verses, six Sherlockian sonnets and a ballad by Helene Yuhasova and published by the Pamphlet House, Summit, New Jersey; 1946. Helene Yuhasova is a pen name for the great Sherlockian scholar, Vincent Starrett.Thanks to Ron Lies, “Chips” for this delightful remembrance of the legendary Mr Starrett.

An addendum from commenter Marci in April 2015: Helene Yuhasova is the pen name of my Auntie Helene, who is the author, not Vincent Starrett.

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From Ron Lies, JHWS “Chips”: Another Interesting Item About Dr Watson

Ron sent this interesting sonnet from Holmes to Watson. Does anyone know who wrote it or where it appeared, or who was the illustrator? We extend our sincere thanks to “Chips” who is one of our very interesting and interested members, managing to send something a bit reserché nearly every week.
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The Sonnet reads: Sherlock Holmes to John H. Watson

You said of me what Plato said of him:
Who took the hemlock at his soul’s behest
That I was paragon and paradigm–
Of all you’ve known, the wisest and the best.
Discernment such as that shows goodness, too,
And certifies a wisdom long concealed–
My wisdom lay, perhaps in choosing you
To stand beside me as my foil and shield.

For you are Britain’s apotheosis;
The summum bonum of the bulldog’s breed;
A benison epitomized in this:
That strength and valour flourish in your deed . . .
Come, Watson, come!  The game’s afoot and free:
The world has need of men like you–and me.