Early May 1856
This poem and the next one (“To Jennie,” no. 23), both addressed to Ann Virginia Ruffner, were inscribed by Clemens in her autograph album. The text of “Lines” is taken from a printing in the Hannibal Evening Courier-Post for 6 March 1935 because the autograph album itself is not now available.
Both the title and the text show that Clemens was writing a gentle take-off on Wordsworth's “Lines written a few miles above Tintern Abbey, on revisiting the banks of the Wye during a tour.” According to the article in the Courier-Post, Miss Ruffner was visiting Keokuk early in May 1856, where she met Clemens, who was then working in Orion's Ben Franklin Book and Job Office.
There were many gatherings of the young people of Keokuk that spring when Miss Ruffner visited there. She met Sam Clemens frequently, and no doubt he was her partner several times in the stately party games of that bygone day.
They also went to church on Sunday nights in company with other young people. It was an amusing incident that happened when they were coming home from church one night which Sam Clemens made the theme of a poem.
The party consisted, evidently, of Miss Ruffner and Clemens, and the unidentified Miss Iowa Burns and “Cal.” “A rain storm had come up during the sermon and in the darkness of the rainy night the group of young people, chatting vivaciously as they walked home, found themselves walking off [begin page 121] the crude sidewalk into a muddy ditch.” Clemens evidently added “an explanatory note, ‘long meter,’ ” in the margin of the last, rather free stanza.1
(Last Sunday night, you know.)
Yet in my heart your image reigns,
(It rained some then, you know.)
An eventful night was that, my friend,
It still in my memory burns:
It lingers in Cal's memory, too,
And in that of Iowa burns.
A thunder and lightning sermon we had,
Aye, a sermon of lightning and thunder.Ⓐemendation
We caught thunder and lightning going home.
(But Cal heeded naught save his blunder.)
For consolation poor Cal came to me,
I did for him all I could do;
“I've made such a fool of myself,” said he,
(And I kindly assented thereto.)
[begin page 123] “A fool! a fool! a perfect fool! I'll go and drown myself.”
(“Indeed! Goodbye, my friend, goodbye”)
“Blow out my brains and cut my throat!”
(“I'll hold your hat,” said I.)
S. L. C.Ⓐemendation Ⓐtextual note
Now Ginnie, don't forget that night,Nor fire and brimstone lecture,
And deign to pity my sad plight,
After tumbling into that abominable gully,
Which incident may be attributed to neglect of duty,
On the part of the street inspector.
Sam C.Ⓐtextual note
The manuscript of this poem, in the autograph album of Ann Virginia Ruffner, is extant but not available for inspection. The first printing, presumably from a transcription of the album entry, in the Hannibal Evening Courier-Post for 6 March 1935 (p. 9C) is therefore copy-text. Copy: PH from MoHist.