- Published on
Don’t You See?
The day was hotter than words can tell,
So hot the jelly-fish wouldn’t jell.
The halibut went all to butter,
And the catfish had only force to utter
A faint sea-mew - aye, though some have doubted,
The carp he carped and the horn-pout pouted.
The sardonic sardine had his sly heart’s wish
When the angel fish fought with the paradise-fish.
’Twas a sight gave the bluefish the blues to see,
But the seal concealed a wicked glee -
The day it went from bad to worse,
Till the pickerel picked the purse-crab’s purse.
And that crab felt crabbeder yet, no doubt,
Because the oyster wouldn’t shell out.
The sculpin would sculp, but hadn’t a model,
And the codfish begged for something to coddle.
But to both the dolphin refused its doll,
Till the whale was obliged to whale them all.
by Katherine Lee Bates
The day was hotter than words can tell,
So hot the jelly-fish wouldn’t jell.
The halibut went all to butter,
And the catfish had only force to utter
A faint sea-mew - aye, though some have doubted,
The carp he carped and the horn-pout pouted.
The sardonic sardine had his sly heart’s wish
When the angel fish fought with the paradise-fish.
’Twas a sight gave the bluefish the blues to see,
But the seal concealed a wicked glee -
The day it went from bad to worse,
Till the pickerel picked the purse-crab’s purse.
And that crab felt crabbeder yet, no doubt,
Because the oyster wouldn’t shell out.
The sculpin would sculp, but hadn’t a model,
And the codfish begged for something to coddle.
But to both the dolphin refused its doll,
Till the whale was obliged to whale them all.
by Katherine Lee Bates
- Published on
Captain Reece
Of all the ships upon the blue,
No ship contained a better crew
Than that of worthy Captain Reece,
Commanding of ‘The Mantelpiece.’
He was adored by all his men,
For worthy Captain Reece, R. N.,
Did all that lay within him to
Promote the comfort of his crew.
If ever they were dull or sad,
Their captain danced to them like mad,
Or told, to make the time pass by,
Droll legends of his infancy.
A feather bed had every man,
Warm slippers and hot-water can,
Brown Windsor from the captain’s store,
A valet, too, to every four.
Did they with thirst in summer burn?
Lo, seltzogenes at every turn,
And on all very sultry days
Cream ices handed round on trays.
Then currant wine and ginger-pops
Stood handily on all the “tops”;
And also, with amusement rife,
A “Zoetrope, or Wheel of Life.”
New volumes came across the sea
From Mister Mundies libraree;
The Times and Saturday Review
Beguiled the leisure of the crew.
Kind-hearted Captain Reece, R. N.,
Was quite devoted to his men;
In point of fact, good Captain Reece
Beatified ‘The Mantelpiece.’
One summer eve, at half-past ten,
He said (addressing all his men):
“Come, tell me, please, what I can do
To please and gratify my crew.”
“By any reasonable plan
I’ll make you happy if I can;
My own convenience count as nil:
It is my duty, and I will.”
Then up and answered William Lee
(The kindly captain’s coxswain he,
A nervous, shy, low-spoken man),
He cleared his throat and thus began:
“You have a daughter, Captain Reece,
Ten female cousins and a niece,
A ma, if what I’m told is true,
Six sisters, and an aunt or two.”
“Now, somehow, sir, it seems to me
More friendly like we all should be,
If you united of ’em to
Unmarried members of the crew.”
“If you’d ameliorate our life,
Let each of us select a wife;
And as for nervous me, old pal,
Give me your own enchanting gal!”
Good Captain Reece, that worthy man,
Debated on his coxswain’s plan:
“I quite agree,” he said, “O Bill;
It is my duty, and I will.”
“My daughter, that enchanting gurl,
Has just been promised to an Earl,
And all my other familee
To peers of various degree.”
“But what are dukes and viscounts to
The happiness of all my crew?
The word I gave you I’ll fulfill;
It is my duty, and I will.”
“As you desire it shall befall;
I’ll settle thousands on you all,
And I shall be, despite my hoard,
The only bachelor on board.”
The boatswain of ‘The Mantelpiece,’
He blushed and spoke to Captain Reece:
“I beg your honor’s leave,” he said:
“If you would wish to go and wed,”
“I have a widowed mother who
Would be the very thing for you -
She long has loved you from afar;
She washes for you, Captain R.”
The Captain saw the dame that day -
Addressed her in this playful way -
“And did it want a wedding ring?
It was a tempting ickle sing!”
“Well, well, the chaplain I will seek,
We’ll all be married this day week
At yonder church upon the hill;
It is my duty and I will!”
The sisters, cousins, aunts and niece,
And widowed ma of Captain Reece,
Attended there as they were bid;
It was their duty, and they did.
by William S. Gilbert (William Schwenck Gilbert (1836 - 1911))
Of all the ships upon the blue,
No ship contained a better crew
Than that of worthy Captain Reece,
Commanding of ‘The Mantelpiece.’
He was adored by all his men,
For worthy Captain Reece, R. N.,
Did all that lay within him to
Promote the comfort of his crew.
If ever they were dull or sad,
Their captain danced to them like mad,
Or told, to make the time pass by,
Droll legends of his infancy.
A feather bed had every man,
Warm slippers and hot-water can,
Brown Windsor from the captain’s store,
A valet, too, to every four.
Did they with thirst in summer burn?
Lo, seltzogenes at every turn,
And on all very sultry days
Cream ices handed round on trays.
Then currant wine and ginger-pops
Stood handily on all the “tops”;
And also, with amusement rife,
A “Zoetrope, or Wheel of Life.”
New volumes came across the sea
From Mister Mundies libraree;
The Times and Saturday Review
Beguiled the leisure of the crew.
Kind-hearted Captain Reece, R. N.,
Was quite devoted to his men;
In point of fact, good Captain Reece
Beatified ‘The Mantelpiece.’
One summer eve, at half-past ten,
He said (addressing all his men):
“Come, tell me, please, what I can do
To please and gratify my crew.”
“By any reasonable plan
I’ll make you happy if I can;
My own convenience count as nil:
It is my duty, and I will.”
Then up and answered William Lee
(The kindly captain’s coxswain he,
A nervous, shy, low-spoken man),
He cleared his throat and thus began:
“You have a daughter, Captain Reece,
Ten female cousins and a niece,
A ma, if what I’m told is true,
Six sisters, and an aunt or two.”
“Now, somehow, sir, it seems to me
More friendly like we all should be,
If you united of ’em to
Unmarried members of the crew.”
“If you’d ameliorate our life,
Let each of us select a wife;
And as for nervous me, old pal,
Give me your own enchanting gal!”
Good Captain Reece, that worthy man,
Debated on his coxswain’s plan:
“I quite agree,” he said, “O Bill;
It is my duty, and I will.”
“My daughter, that enchanting gurl,
Has just been promised to an Earl,
And all my other familee
To peers of various degree.”
“But what are dukes and viscounts to
The happiness of all my crew?
The word I gave you I’ll fulfill;
It is my duty, and I will.”
“As you desire it shall befall;
I’ll settle thousands on you all,
And I shall be, despite my hoard,
The only bachelor on board.”
The boatswain of ‘The Mantelpiece,’
He blushed and spoke to Captain Reece:
“I beg your honor’s leave,” he said:
“If you would wish to go and wed,”
“I have a widowed mother who
Would be the very thing for you -
She long has loved you from afar;
She washes for you, Captain R.”
The Captain saw the dame that day -
Addressed her in this playful way -
“And did it want a wedding ring?
It was a tempting ickle sing!”
“Well, well, the chaplain I will seek,
We’ll all be married this day week
At yonder church upon the hill;
It is my duty and I will!”
The sisters, cousins, aunts and niece,
And widowed ma of Captain Reece,
Attended there as they were bid;
It was their duty, and they did.
by William S. Gilbert (William Schwenck Gilbert (1836 - 1911))
- Published on
The Table and the Chair
I
Said the Table to the Chair,
‘You can hardly be aware,
‘How I suffer from the heat,
‘And from chilblains on my feet!
‘If we took a little walk,
‘We might have a little talk!
‘Pray let us take the air!’
Said the Table to the Chair.
II
Said the Chair unto the Table,
‘Now you know we are not able!
‘How foolishly you talk,
‘When you know we cannot walk!’
Said the Table, with a sigh,
‘It can do no harm to try,
‘I’ve as many legs as you,
‘Why can’t we walk on two?’
III
So they both went slowly down,
And walked about the town
With a cheerful bumpy sound,
As they toddled round and round.
And everybody cried,
As they hastened to their side,
‘See! the Table and the Chair
Have come out to take the air!’
IV
But in going down an alley,
To a castle in a valley,
They completely lost their way,
And wandered all the day,
Till, to see them safely back,
They paid a Ducky-quack,
And a Beetle, and a Mouse,
Who took them to their house.
V
Then they whispered to each other,
‘O delightful little brother!
What a lovely walk we’ve taken!
Let us dine on Beans and Bacon!’
So the Ducky, and the leetle
Browny-Mousy and the Beetle
Dined, and danced upon their heads
Till they toddled to their beds.
by Edward Lear
Chilblain: A painful, itching swelling on the skin, typically on a hand or foot, caused by poor circulation in the skin when exposed to cold; also known as pernio.
Leetle: A very tiny and disgustingly cute and/or fascinating thing; derived from ‘little.’
Toddle: To move with short unsteady steps while learning to walk; said of a child.
Edward Lear was born on 12 May 1812 in Halloway, England as one of twenty-one children of a stockbroker and his wife. His childhood was passed in a comfortable home in Highgate, where, because of his epilepsy and asthma, he was educated by his sisters Anne and Sarah. They introduced him to sketching and coloring. He lacked formal training, but his interest and energy made him a skilled draftsman. Edward Lear traveled extensively, including to Egypt and India, as a talented watercolor painter of birds, animals, and landscapes. He made marvelous paintings of parrots and did whimsical illustrations for the many limericks he wrote. Edward Lear passed on at 76 years of age on 29 January 1888 in San Remo, Italy.
I
Said the Table to the Chair,
‘You can hardly be aware,
‘How I suffer from the heat,
‘And from chilblains on my feet!
‘If we took a little walk,
‘We might have a little talk!
‘Pray let us take the air!’
Said the Table to the Chair.
II
Said the Chair unto the Table,
‘Now you know we are not able!
‘How foolishly you talk,
‘When you know we cannot walk!’
Said the Table, with a sigh,
‘It can do no harm to try,
‘I’ve as many legs as you,
‘Why can’t we walk on two?’
III
So they both went slowly down,
And walked about the town
With a cheerful bumpy sound,
As they toddled round and round.
And everybody cried,
As they hastened to their side,
‘See! the Table and the Chair
Have come out to take the air!’
IV
But in going down an alley,
To a castle in a valley,
They completely lost their way,
And wandered all the day,
Till, to see them safely back,
They paid a Ducky-quack,
And a Beetle, and a Mouse,
Who took them to their house.
V
Then they whispered to each other,
‘O delightful little brother!
What a lovely walk we’ve taken!
Let us dine on Beans and Bacon!’
So the Ducky, and the leetle
Browny-Mousy and the Beetle
Dined, and danced upon their heads
Till they toddled to their beds.
by Edward Lear
Chilblain: A painful, itching swelling on the skin, typically on a hand or foot, caused by poor circulation in the skin when exposed to cold; also known as pernio.
Leetle: A very tiny and disgustingly cute and/or fascinating thing; derived from ‘little.’
Toddle: To move with short unsteady steps while learning to walk; said of a child.
Edward Lear was born on 12 May 1812 in Halloway, England as one of twenty-one children of a stockbroker and his wife. His childhood was passed in a comfortable home in Highgate, where, because of his epilepsy and asthma, he was educated by his sisters Anne and Sarah. They introduced him to sketching and coloring. He lacked formal training, but his interest and energy made him a skilled draftsman. Edward Lear traveled extensively, including to Egypt and India, as a talented watercolor painter of birds, animals, and landscapes. He made marvelous paintings of parrots and did whimsical illustrations for the many limericks he wrote. Edward Lear passed on at 76 years of age on 29 January 1888 in San Remo, Italy.
- Published on
Jabberwocky
Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought -
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
“And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!’”
He chortled in his joy.
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
by Lewis Carroll: “Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There” (1871)
Lewis Carroll is a pseudonym of Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, who was born on 27 January 1832 in England. He became a writer, a mathematician, a logician, an Anglican deacon, and a photographer. His is known for the books, “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland” (1865) and its sequel, “Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There” (1871), as well as the poems, “The Hunting of the Snark” and “Jabberwocky,” all examples of the genre of literary nonsense. Charles Lutwidge Dodgson passed on at 65 years of age on 14 January 1898.
Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought -
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
“And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!’”
He chortled in his joy.
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
by Lewis Carroll: “Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There” (1871)
Lewis Carroll is a pseudonym of Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, who was born on 27 January 1832 in England. He became a writer, a mathematician, a logician, an Anglican deacon, and a photographer. His is known for the books, “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland” (1865) and its sequel, “Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There” (1871), as well as the poems, “The Hunting of the Snark” and “Jabberwocky,” all examples of the genre of literary nonsense. Charles Lutwidge Dodgson passed on at 65 years of age on 14 January 1898.
- Published on
The Height of the Ridiculous
I wrote some lines once on a time
In wondrous merry mood,
And thought, as usual, men would say
They were exceeding good.
They were so queer, so very queer,
I laughed as I would die;
Albeit, in the general way,
A sober man am I.
I called my servant, and he came;
How kind it was of him
To mind a slender man like me,
He of the mighty limb!
“These to the printer,” I exclaimed,
And, in my humorous way,
I added (as a trifling jest),
“There’ll be the devil to pay.”
He took the paper, and I watched,
And saw him peep within;
At the first line he read, his face
Was all upon the grin.
He read the next; the grin grew broad,
And shot from ear to ear;
He read the third; a chuckling noise
I now began to hear.
The fourth; he broke into a roar;
The fifth; his waist band split;
The sixth; he burst five buttons off,
And tumbled in a fit.
Ten days and nights, with sleepless eye
I watched that wretched man,
And since, I never dare to write
As funny as I can.
by Oliver Wendell Holmes
Oliver Wendell Holmes, Senior was born on 29 August 1809 in Cambridge, Massachusetts, United States of America. He became a physician, a novelist, an essayist, and a poet. Oliver Wendell Holmes, Senior passed on at 85 years of age on 7 October 1894 in Boston, Massachusetts, United States of America.
I wrote some lines once on a time
In wondrous merry mood,
And thought, as usual, men would say
They were exceeding good.
They were so queer, so very queer,
I laughed as I would die;
Albeit, in the general way,
A sober man am I.
I called my servant, and he came;
How kind it was of him
To mind a slender man like me,
He of the mighty limb!
“These to the printer,” I exclaimed,
And, in my humorous way,
I added (as a trifling jest),
“There’ll be the devil to pay.”
He took the paper, and I watched,
And saw him peep within;
At the first line he read, his face
Was all upon the grin.
He read the next; the grin grew broad,
And shot from ear to ear;
He read the third; a chuckling noise
I now began to hear.
The fourth; he broke into a roar;
The fifth; his waist band split;
The sixth; he burst five buttons off,
And tumbled in a fit.
Ten days and nights, with sleepless eye
I watched that wretched man,
And since, I never dare to write
As funny as I can.
by Oliver Wendell Holmes
Oliver Wendell Holmes, Senior was born on 29 August 1809 in Cambridge, Massachusetts, United States of America. He became a physician, a novelist, an essayist, and a poet. Oliver Wendell Holmes, Senior passed on at 85 years of age on 7 October 1894 in Boston, Massachusetts, United States of America.
- Published on
The Quangle Wangle’s Hat
On the top of the Crumpetty Tree
The Quangle Wangle sat,
But his face you could not see,
On account of his Beaver Hat.
For his Hat was a hundred and two feet wide,
With ribbons and bibbons on every side,
And bells, and buttons, and loops, and lace,
So that nobody ever could see the face
Of the Quangle Wangle Quee.
The Quangle Wangle said
To himself on the Crumpetty Tree,
“Jam, and jelly, and bread
Are the best of food for me!
But the longer I live on this Crumpetty Tree
The plainer than ever it seems to me
That very few people come this way
And that life on the whole is far from gay!”
Said the Quangle Wangle Quee.
But there came to the Crumpetty Tree
Mr. and Mrs. Canary;
And they said, “Did ever you see
Any spot so charmingly airy?
May we build a nest on your lovely Hat?
Mr. Quangle Wangle, grant us that!
O please let us come and build a nest
Of whatever material suits you best,
Mr. Quangle Wangle Quee!”
And besides, to the Crumpetty Tree
Came the Stork, the Duck, and the Owl;
The Snail and the Bumble-Bee,
The Frog and the Fimble Fowl
(The Fimble Fowl, with a Corkscrew leg);
And all of them said, “We humbly beg
We may build our homes on your lovely Hat, -
Mr. Quangle Wangle, grant us that!
Mr. Quangle Wangle Quee!”
And the Golden Grouse came there,
And the Pobble who has no toes,
And the small Olympian bear,
And the Dong with a luminous nose.
And the Blue Baboon who played the flute,
And the Orient Calf from the Land of Tute,
And the Attery Squash, and the Bisky Bat, -
All came and built on the lovely Hat
Of the Quangle Wangle Quee.
And the Quangle Wangle said
To himself on the Crumpetty Tree,
“When all these creatures move
What a wonderful noise there’ll be!”
And at night by the light of the Mulberry moon
They danced to the Flute of the Blue Baboon,
On the broad green leaves of the Crumpetty Tree,
And all were as happy as happy could be,
With the Quangle Wangle Quee.
by Edward Lear
Edward Lear was born on 12 May 1812 in Halloway, England as one of twenty-one children of a stockbroker and his wife. His childhood was passed in a comfortable home in Highgate, where, because of his epilepsy and asthma, he was educated by his sisters Anne and Sarah. They introduced him to sketching and coloring. He lacked formal training, but his interest and energy made him a skilled draftsman. Edward Lear traveled extensively, including to Egypt and India, as a talented watercolor painter of birds, animals, and landscapes. He made marvelous paintings of parrots and whimsical illustrations for the many limericks he wrote. Edward Lear passed on at 75 years of age on 29 January 1888 in San Remo, Italy. His online memorial can be visited by clicking on Edward Lear.
On the top of the Crumpetty Tree
The Quangle Wangle sat,
But his face you could not see,
On account of his Beaver Hat.
For his Hat was a hundred and two feet wide,
With ribbons and bibbons on every side,
And bells, and buttons, and loops, and lace,
So that nobody ever could see the face
Of the Quangle Wangle Quee.
The Quangle Wangle said
To himself on the Crumpetty Tree,
“Jam, and jelly, and bread
Are the best of food for me!
But the longer I live on this Crumpetty Tree
The plainer than ever it seems to me
That very few people come this way
And that life on the whole is far from gay!”
Said the Quangle Wangle Quee.
But there came to the Crumpetty Tree
Mr. and Mrs. Canary;
And they said, “Did ever you see
Any spot so charmingly airy?
May we build a nest on your lovely Hat?
Mr. Quangle Wangle, grant us that!
O please let us come and build a nest
Of whatever material suits you best,
Mr. Quangle Wangle Quee!”
And besides, to the Crumpetty Tree
Came the Stork, the Duck, and the Owl;
The Snail and the Bumble-Bee,
The Frog and the Fimble Fowl
(The Fimble Fowl, with a Corkscrew leg);
And all of them said, “We humbly beg
We may build our homes on your lovely Hat, -
Mr. Quangle Wangle, grant us that!
Mr. Quangle Wangle Quee!”
And the Golden Grouse came there,
And the Pobble who has no toes,
And the small Olympian bear,
And the Dong with a luminous nose.
And the Blue Baboon who played the flute,
And the Orient Calf from the Land of Tute,
And the Attery Squash, and the Bisky Bat, -
All came and built on the lovely Hat
Of the Quangle Wangle Quee.
And the Quangle Wangle said
To himself on the Crumpetty Tree,
“When all these creatures move
What a wonderful noise there’ll be!”
And at night by the light of the Mulberry moon
They danced to the Flute of the Blue Baboon,
On the broad green leaves of the Crumpetty Tree,
And all were as happy as happy could be,
With the Quangle Wangle Quee.
by Edward Lear
Edward Lear was born on 12 May 1812 in Halloway, England as one of twenty-one children of a stockbroker and his wife. His childhood was passed in a comfortable home in Highgate, where, because of his epilepsy and asthma, he was educated by his sisters Anne and Sarah. They introduced him to sketching and coloring. He lacked formal training, but his interest and energy made him a skilled draftsman. Edward Lear traveled extensively, including to Egypt and India, as a talented watercolor painter of birds, animals, and landscapes. He made marvelous paintings of parrots and whimsical illustrations for the many limericks he wrote. Edward Lear passed on at 75 years of age on 29 January 1888 in San Remo, Italy. His online memorial can be visited by clicking on Edward Lear.
- Published on
Merry Are the Bells
Merry are the bells, and merry would they ring,
Merry was myself, and merry could I sing;
With a merry ding-dong, happy, gay, and free,
And a merry sing-song, happy let us be!
Waddle goes your gait, and hollow are your hose:
Noddle goes your pate, and purple is your nose:
Merry is your sing-song, happy, gay, and free;
With a merry ding-dong, happy let us be!
Merry have we met, and merry have we been;
Merry let us part, and merry meet again;
With our merry sing-song, happy, gay, and free,
With a merry ding-dong, happy let us be!
by Emilie Poulsson
Anne Emilie Poulsson was born on 8 September 1853 in Cedar Grove, New Jersey, United States of America. She became a teacher for the blind at the Perkins School, a writer, a poet, and a translator of written works from Norwegian into English. Anne Emilie Poulsson passed on at 85 years of age on 18 March 1939.
Merry are the bells, and merry would they ring,
Merry was myself, and merry could I sing;
With a merry ding-dong, happy, gay, and free,
And a merry sing-song, happy let us be!
Waddle goes your gait, and hollow are your hose:
Noddle goes your pate, and purple is your nose:
Merry is your sing-song, happy, gay, and free;
With a merry ding-dong, happy let us be!
Merry have we met, and merry have we been;
Merry let us part, and merry meet again;
With our merry sing-song, happy, gay, and free,
With a merry ding-dong, happy let us be!
by Emilie Poulsson
Anne Emilie Poulsson was born on 8 September 1853 in Cedar Grove, New Jersey, United States of America. She became a teacher for the blind at the Perkins School, a writer, a poet, and a translator of written works from Norwegian into English. Anne Emilie Poulsson passed on at 85 years of age on 18 March 1939.
