929

The Organist

Wouldn't it be nice

If he could play a few more

Notes Bach actually wrote.

Brian Hick May 2011

©copyright Sally Hick 28.4.23

 John Snetzler came to England

About 1742

And quickly made a name for himself

As an Organ Builder who

Underwtood the English

With their unusual habit

Of singing hymns so lustily

Then hunting fox or rabbit.

He set up shop in Soho,

Not far from Handel's home,

Repairing others' organs

Until he chanced to roam

Up north where Unitarians

Had settled, and he found

A ready market for his wares

In homes, so he was bound

To have a special liking

For their quieter ways

And designed the Dulciana

For Unitarian praise.

Buckingham heard our organ when he

Visited William Strutt

At St Helen's House in Derby

In 1813, but

Something happened after that

And in 1837

Walkers made a full rebuild

After you were riven

By some catastrophe or other

Which destroyed your case

And three ranks of your pipework

Putting in their place

A half-rank Dulciana -

Though not of Snetzler's type -

And a softly liquid Flute

Which continues to delight.

Moved from Norton to Banbury

Before you made a start

For Lewes' West Gate Chapel

And thus, by horse and cart,

To Hastings Unitarians

For twelve pounds and a beer

In thanks for careful carriage and

Erection over there.

Since when you have given joy to all

And musical delight

For over seventy years until

We come at last tonight

To say goodbye to how you've been

Since 1930, for

You are off to Surbiton

Where Matthew will restore

You, so we look towards the future

When we'll see you again

With your new case and ranks of pipes

So, God speed until then.

Lets raise a glass and wish you well

Until we hear once more

The sounds that Johann Snetzler heard

In 1764!

BH 27.11.09

©copyright Sally Hick 7.11.22

 The King of Instraments

I suppose that he was someone's pride and joy

But now, squat and abandoned, he waits

The demolition crew, unless the fates

Can find a buyer, eager for a toy.

Sixty years disinterest and neglect

Have gradually reduced his usefulness

And decorators with their uncleared mess

Have choked his pipes and left his chests bedecked

With rubble, dust, dead pigeons and the rest.

Pedal draw-stops don't, and on his Swell

The bottom octave does not speak at all

But then, who cares to hear him at his best?

          A monarch needs a Kingdom to inspire

          And if he can't - what use the Angelic Choir?

Brian Hick Summer 2009

©copyright Sally Hick 26.8.22