Whimsey Anthology Collected b 1 A Whimsey Anthology Collected by Carolyn Wells f * % X: '. : :*: v . Charles Scribners Sons 1906 COPYRIGHT, 1906, BY CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS Published, September, 1906 PREFACE AWHIMSEY is defined by the dictionaries as a whim, a freak, a capricious notion, an odd device. Though of trifling value as literary efforts, verbal whimseys often display such ingenuity and patience of labor that they command, perforce, a certain admiration. Many of the best and most learned of writers have amused themselves in making these oddities, but as modern times offer little leisure for such work, the best examples are oftenest found among the works of the earlier authors. A literary whimsey is not merely the expression of a whimsical thought or fancy, but an odd or capricious form of that expression. It is whimseys of manner not matter that are offered in this col- lection. 224252 CONTENTS LOGICAL WHIMSEYS PAGE Conjugal Conjugations . . A . W. Bellaw .... 3 Love's Moods and Senses . . Anonymous .... 5 An Original L6Ve Story . . Anonymous .... 7 "Queries" W.Stanford .... 8 The Ballad of Ameighlia Mair- eigh Anonymous .... 9 The Pearl of Palencia . . . Waller Parke . . . . n Ough * . . Anonymous .... 13 O-U-G-H. A Fresh Hack at an Old Knot Charles Battell Loomis . 14 Ow Anonymous .... 15 Adioux Among the Sioux . . Anonymous . . . . 16 Job Anonymous . . . . 16 The Cow A Bovinity . . . Anonymous . . . . 17 Half Hours with the Classics . H.J.DcBurgh ... 17 Shake, Mulleary and Go-ethe . H.C.Bunner ... 19 SHAPED WHIMSEYS The Wine Glass .... Proverbs xxiii, 29-32 . 21 Song of the Decanter . . . Anonymous .... 22 The Flagon Pannard 23 The Glass Pannard 24 Bait of the Average Fisherman . H . C. Dodge .... 25 A Type of Beauty .... Anonymous .... 26 TheStegomyia Anonymous .... 27 Little Boys take Warning . . Anonymous .... 28 The Tale of a Mouse . . . Lewis Carroll ... 29 The Mice Lewis Carroll .... 30 The Old Line Fence . . . A.W. ellaw ... 31 Jones's Ride McLandburgh Wilson . 34 On the Street A nonymous .... 35 Avoirdupois Anonymous .... 36 A Cubic Triolet Anonymous .... 36 [vii] Con tents ALPHABETICAL WHIMSEYS PAGE The Siege of Belgrade . . . Anonymous .... 37 A, B, C C. S. Calverley ... 38 Monorhymed Alphabet . . Anonymous .... 39 Monorhymed Alphabet . . Mortimer Collins ... 40 Memorandums Charles E. Carryl . . 41 An Animal Alphabet . . . Anonymous .... 42 An Animal Alphabet . . . Edward Lear .... 43 TYPOGRAPHICAL WHIMSEYS- Dirge Anonymous .... 47 ODV Anonymous .... 48 An Alphabetical Wooing . . Anonymous .... 51 OIC Anonymous .... 52 The Zealless Xylographer . . Mary M apes Dodge . . 52 A Geographical Love Song . Anonymous .... 53 The Sunday Fisherman . . A . W. Bellaw .... 54 An Arab and his Donkey . . Anonymous .... 57 A Song of the & Anonymous .... 58 Lovelilts Anonymous .... 60 Romantic Recollections . . Henry S.Leigh . . .61 LIPOGRAMS The Russo-Turkish War . . A nonymous .... 63 The Fall of Eve Anonymous .... 63 The Approach of Evening . . Anonymous .... 64 Incontrovertible Facts . . . Anonymous .... 64 Philosophy Anonymous .... 65 The Fate of Nassan . . . Anonymous .... 65 Alphabet Verse Anonymous .... 66 ALLITERATIVE WHIMSEYS My Madeline Anonymous .... 67 Bloom, Beauteous Blossoms . Sir Patrick Fells ... 68 [viii] Contents Susan Simpson Anonymous .... 69 The Cushat Alexander Montgomery . 70 Qua^ritur Rudyard Kipling . . .71 Procuratores Anonymous .... 72 ACROSTICS Acrostic Sir John Davies ... 73 Acrostic Charles Lamb . . 73 Acrostic Bogart 74 Acrostic Lewis Carroll .... 75 An Acrostic -\nonynwus .... 75 An Acrostic Lewis Carroll . . . . 76 Double A( r>stir .... Anonymous .... 77 Peculiar Acrostic A Valentine FdgarA.Poc . ... 77 Particular Acrostic .... Thomas Jordan ... 78 ENIGMAS AND CHARADES Enigma OQ the Letter H . . Catherine Fanshawe . . 79 Travesty of Mi^s I-'unshuwr'^ Enigma Horace Mayhew ... So The Letter H's Protrst to the Cockneys Mr. Skeat 81 Enigma on the Letter! . . . Catherine Fanshawe . . 81 An Unsolved Enigma . . . Anna Seacard . ... 82 An Unsolved Enigma . . . A nonymous .... 83 An Unsolved Enigma . . . . 1 nonymous .... 83 Old Riddle A nonymous .... 84 A Famous Riddle . . . . A nonymous .... 85 Old Riddle Anonymous .... 88 Enigma on Cod A nonymous .... 89 Charade: Campbell . . . \Vinthrop Mackworth Praed 89 ANAGRAMS A Telegram Anagrammatised . Dr. John Abernethy . . 91 [ix] Co ntents PALINDROMES Palindromes H. Campkin . Palindrome Lines .... Anonymous MNEMONICS Lady Moon Christina G. Rossetti Days in the Months . . . Anonymous The Perfect Greyhound . . Old Rhyme . . . The Cuckoo Old Rhyme . . . Two Apple-Howling Songs Surre , Devonshire . . . Anonymous Days of Birth Old Rhyme . . . Prognostications .... Anonymous Hours of Sleep Anonymous Old Adage Anonymous Old Saw Anonymous French Adage Anonymous A Caution Anonymous Cautions Hugh Rhodes Philosophic Advice .... Anonymous The Right Sort of a Fellow . . Anonymous A Man of Words .... Anonymous Sheridan's Calendar . . . Anonymous . . A Rule of Three .... Wallace Rice . . . Reasons for Drinking . . . Dr. Henry Aldrich A Bacchanalian Toast . . . Robert Herrick . . CATALOGUE WHIMSEYS The Hundred Best Books . . Mostyn T. Pigott .106 A Rhyme for Musicians . . E. Lemke 109 'Tis Ever Thus R. K. Munkittrick . .no Indian Tribes Anonymous . . . .in Signs of Rain Edward Jenner . . .112 Similes Anonymous . . . . 113 Contents A Nursery Rhyme .... Anonymous . . . .114 London Bells Anonymous . . . .115 The Court of Aldermen at Fish- mongers' Hall .... Anonymous . . . .117 Earth Anonymous . . . .118 The Joys of Marriage . . . Charles Cotton . . .119 A New- Year's Gift for Shrews . Anonymous . . . .120 One Week Carolyn Wells . . .120 TONGUE TWISTERS The Twiner Dr.Wallis . . . .122 Un Cordier Attain Chartier . . .122 The Thatcher Anonymous . . . .123 Peter Piper Anonymous . . . .123 Simple English Ray Clarke Rose . . . 124 \VhatHiawathaProbablyDid. Anonymous .... 124 MONORHYMES Under the Trees .... C.S.Calverley . . .125 The Ruling Power .... Thomas Hood . . .126 The Musical Ass .... TomasodeYriarte . .127 The Roman Nose .... Merrit England . . .128 To Mrs. Thrale on Her Thirty- fifth Birthday Boswell 128 A Rhyme for Tipperary . . Dr. Fitzgerald . . .129 The Doneraile Litany . . . Patrick O' Kelly . . .132 My Manx Minx Orlando Thomas Dobbin 135 Five Wines Robert Herrick . . .137 Lines on Rose Charles Battell Loomis . 138 INTERIOR RHYMES Bowled Anonymous . . . .140 A Nocturnal Sketch . . . Thomas Hood . . .140 The Double Knock .... Thomas Hood . . .142 [xi] Contents PAGE The Future of the Classics . . Anonymous .... 143 JocosaLyra Austin Dobson . . . 145 A Trip to Paris James Smith .... 146 A Ferry Tale Charles E. Carryl . .149 Song for a Cracked Voice . . Wallace Irwin . . .150 BLANK VERSE IN PROSE Death of Little Nell . . . Charles Dickens . . .152 Song of the Kettle .... Charles Dickens . . .154 FIXED FORMS Villanelle Walter W. Sleat . . . 155 The Rondeau Austin Dobson . . .156 The Roundel A C \ Swinburne . . .156 Yillunelleof Things Amusing . Gelett Burgess . . . 157 Tema Con Variazioni . . . Leuns Carroll . . . .158 The Triolet W.E.Henley . . .159 Triolet Paul T.Gilbert . . .159 A Pitcher of Mignonette . . H.C.Bunner . . .160 The Triolet Austin Dobson . . .160 Ballade W. E. Henley . . . .161 Villanelle W.E.Henley . . . 162 ARondelay Peter A. Motteux . .163 Sonnet to Order H.C.Bunner . . .164 Sonnet on the Sonnet . . . James Y. Gibson . . .164 Sonnet to a Clam .... JohnG.Saxe. . . .165 Rondeau Leigh Hunt . . . . 1 66 Remember Judy 166 The Wail of the "Personally Conducted" H.C.Bunner ... 167 CHAIN VERSE Out of Sight, Out of Mind . . BarnabyGooge . . .169 Ad Mortem A nonymous . . . .170 Nerve Thy Soul .... /I nonymous . . . .170 [xii] Co ntents ( 1 NTONES OR MOSAIC WHIMSEYS PAGE Life Anonymous . . . .172 My Genevieve Anonymous . . . .174 The Fate of the Glorious Devil Anonymous . . . - 175 Echoes Lewis Carroll . . . .177 Whatever is, is Right . . . Laman Blanchard . .178 JESUITICAL VERSES The Double-Faced Creed . . Anonymous . . . .179 K ^M l> ^ Some bites he straight began to get, It was the gallinippers bit. The Gallinippers, ^ ^ W One of his lines spun off the reel; He landed in the boat an eel. The Eel, c/2 Then quickly it began to rain, But his umbrella was in vain. The Umbrella, ^ Above his head the thunder crashed, And all around the lightning flashed. The Lightning, z The storm blew, and the boat upset; The man went down into the wet. The Upturned Boat f ^ [56] Typ ogr ap hie al W hims ey s And as he sank, his bubbles rose, Smaller and smaller toward the close. The Bubbles, O o o o Oh, Sunday fishers, old and young, You will get drowned, or you'll get hung! The Gallows, rn . W. Bellow. A AN ARAB AND HIS DONKEY N Arab came to the river side, With a donkey bearing an obelisk; But he would not try to ford the tide, For he had too good an *. Boston Globe. So he camped all night by the river side, And he remained till the tide ceased to swell, For he knew should the donkey from life subside, He never would find its ||. Salem Sunbeam. * * * When the morning dawned, and tide was out, The pair crossed over 'neath Allah's protection; And the Arab was happy, we have no doubt, For he had the best donkey in all that . Somerville Journal. [57] A Whimsey Anthology You are wrong, they were drowned in crossing over, Though the donkey was bravest of all his race; He luxuriates now in horse-heaven clover, And his master has gone to the Prophet's *. Elevated Railway "Journal. * * * These asinine poets deserved to be "blowed," Their rhymes being faulty and frothy and beery; What really befell the ass and its load Will ever remain a desolate ?. Paper and Print. * * # Our Yankee friends, with all their For once, we guess, their mark have missed; And with poetry Paper and Print is rash In damming its flow with its editor's In parable and moral leave a between, For reflection, or your wits fall out of joint; The "Arab," ye see, is a printing machine, And the donkey is he who can't see the . British and Colonial Printer. A SONG OF THE & IF all the types in a printer's hand Commend me to the ampersand, For he's the gentleman (seems to me) Of the typographical companie. I Typographical Whimseys O my nice little ampersand, My graceful, swanlike ampersand! Nothing that Cadmus ever planned Equals my elegant ampersand! Many a letter your writers hate, Ugly Q, with its tail so straight, X, that makes you cross as a bear, And Z, that helps you with "zounds" to swear. But not my nice little ampersand, My easily dashed off ampersand; Any odd shape folks understand To mean my Protean ampersand. Nothing for him that's starch or stiff; Never he's used in scold or tiff; State epistles, so dull and so grand, Mustn't contain the shortened "and." No, my nice little ampersand, You are good for those who're jolly and bland; In days when letters were dried with sand, Old frumps wouldn't use my ampersand. But he is dear in old friendship's call, Or when love is laughing through lady scrawl, "Come & dine & have bachelor's fare," "Come & I'll keep you a round & square." Yes, my nice little ampersand Never must into a word expand; Gentle sign of affection stand, My kind, familiar ampersand. Anonymous. [59] A Whimsey Anthology LOVELILTS r I A HINE eyes, dear one, dot dot, are like, dash, what ? They, pure as sacred oils, bless and anoint My sin-swamped soul which at thy feet sobs out, O exclamation point, O point, O point! Ah, had I words, blank blank, which, dot, I've not, I'd swoon in songs which should'st illume the dark With light of thee. Ah, God (it's strong to swear) Why, why, interrogation mark, why, mark? Dot dot dot dot. And so, dash, yet, but nay! My tongue takes pause; some words must not be said, For fear the world, cold hyphen eyed, austere, Should'st shake thee by the throat till reason fled. One hour of love we've had. Dost thou recall Dot dot dash blank interrogation mark? The night was ours, blue heaven over all Dash, God! dot stars, keep thou our secret dark! Anonymous. [60] Typograph ic a I W hi m s ey s ROMANTIC RECOLLECTIONS I WHEN I lay in a cradle and suck'd a coral, I lov'd romance in my childish way; And stories, with or without a moral, Were welcome as ever the flow'rs in May. For love of the false I learnt my spelling, And brav'd the perils of While matters of fact were most repelling, Romance was pleasant as aught could II My reading took me to desert islands, And buried me deep in Arabian Nights; Sir Walter led me amongst the Highlands, Or into the thickest of Moslem fights. I found the elder Dumas delightful J"T"1 Before the son had eclips'd the [(jU * J = And Harrison Ainsworth finely tJ frightful, And Fenimore Cooper far from III A few years later I took to reading The morbid stories of Edgar Poe Not healthy viands for youthful feeding (And all my advisers told me so). [61] A Whimsey Anthology But, healthy or not, I enjoy'd them vastly; My feverish fancy was nightly j^p; Upon horrible crimes and murders ghastly Which sent me terrified off to IV Well; what with perils upon the prairies, And haunted ruins and ghosts in white, And wars with giants and gifts from fairies, At last I came to be craz'd outright. And many a time, in my nightly slumbers, r ^_ . , , _ p. Bearing a glove as a lady's \. I held the lists against countless numbers, After the style of the darkest I am chang'd at present; the olden fever Has left my brain in a sounder state; In commonplace I'm a firm believer, And hunt for figure and fact and date. I have lost a lot of my old affection, For books on which I was wont to But still I can thrill at the recol- lection Of mystery, magic, and martial Henry S. Leigh. [62] LIPOGRAMS FOUR LIPOGRAMS THE RUSSO-TURKISH WAR WAR harms all ranks, all arts, all crafts appal; At Mars' harsh blast arch, rampart, altar fall! Ah! hard as adamant a braggart Czar Arms vassal-swarms, and fans a fatal war! Rampant at that bad call, a Vandal band Harass, and harm, and ransack Wallach-land. A Tartar phalanx Balkan's scarp hath past, And Allah's standard falls, alas! at last. THE FALL OF EVE EVE, Eden's empress, needs defended be; The Serpent greets her when she seeks the tree. Serene she sees the speckled tempter creep; Gentle he seems perverted schemer deep * Poems so constructed as to omit entirely a certain letter, or, on the contrary, restricted to the use of but one vowel. [63] A Whimsey Anthology Yet endless pretexts, ever fresh, prefers, Perverts her senses, revels when she errs, Sneers when she weeps, regrets, repents she fell, Then, deep-revenged, reseeks the nether Hell! I THE APPROACH OF EVENING DLING I sit in this mild twilight dim, Whilst birds, in wild swift vigils, circling skim. Light wings in sighing sink, till, rising bright, Night's Virgin Pilgrim swims in vivid light. INCONTROVERTIBLE FACTS NO monk too good to rob, or cog, or plot, No fool so gross to bolt Scotch collops hot. From Donjon tops no Oronooko rolls. Logwood, not lotos, floods Oporto's bowls. Troops of old tosspots oft to sot consort. Box tops our schoolboys, too, do flog for sport. No cool monsoons blow oft on Oxford dons, Orthodox, jog-trot, book-worm Solomons! Bold Ostrogoths of ghosts no horror show. On London shop-fronts no hop-blossoms grow. To crocks of gold no Dodo looks for food. On soft cloth footstools no old fox doth brood. Long storm-tost sloops forlorn do work to port. Rooks do not roost on spoons, nor woodcocks snort. Nor dog on snowdrop or on coltsfoot rolls, Nor common frog concocts long protocols. Anonymous. [64] Lip ogr a m s PHILOSOPHY JJLL humdrum murmurs lull, but hubbub stuns. Lucullus snuffs up musk, mundungus shuns. Puss purs, buds burst, bucks butt, luck turns up trumps; But full cups, hurtful, spur up unjust thumps. Anonymous D B THE FATE OF NASSAN* OLD Nassan quits his caravan, A hazy mountain grot to scan; Climbs jaggy rocks to spy his way, Doth tax his sight, but far doth stray. Not work of man, nor sport of child. Finds Nassan in that mazy wild; Lax grow his joints, limbs toil in vain Poor wight! why didst thou quit that plain. Vainly for succour Nassan calls, Know, Zillah, that thy Nassan falls; But prowling wolf and fox may joy, To quarry on thy Arab boy. Anonymous * E is omitted. [65] G A Whimsey Anthology ALPHABET VERSE* OD gives the grazing ox his meat, And quickly hears the sheep's low cry, But man, who tastes his finest wheat, Should joy to lift his praises high. Anonymous * This stanza includes all the letters of the alphabet. [66] ALLITERATIVE WHIMSEYS MY MADELINE MY Madeline! my Madeline! Mark my melodious midnight moans Much may my melting music mean, J My modulated monotones. My mandolin's mild minstrelsy, My mental music magazine, My mouth, my mind, my memory, Must mingling murmur "Madeline." Muster 'mid midnight masquerades, Mark Moorish maidens', matrons' mien, 'Mongst Murcia's most majestic maids Match me my matchless Madeline. Mankind's malevolence may make Much melancholy music mine; Many my motives may mistake, My modest merits much malign. My Madeline's most mirthful mood Much mollifies my mind's machine; My mournfulness' magnitude Melts makes me merry Madeline 1 [67] A Whimsey Anthology Match-making mas may machinate, Manoeuvring misses me misween; Mere money may make many mate; My magic motto's, "Madeline!" Melt, most mellifluous melody, Midst Murcia's misty mounts marine, Meet me 'mid moonlight marry me, Madonna mia! my Madeline! Anonymous. BLOOM, BEAUTEOUS BLOSSOMS LOOM, beauteous blossoms, budding bow- ers beneath! Behold,. Boreas' bitter blast by brief Bright beams becalmed; balmy breezes breathe, Banishing blight, bring bliss beyond be- lief. Build, bonny birds! By bending birchen bough, By bush, by beech, by buttressed branches bare, By bluebell-brightened bramble-brake; bestow Bespeckled broods; but "bold bad boys beware! Babble, blithe brooklet! Barren borders breach, Bathe broomy banks, bright buttercups bedew, Briskly by bridge, by beetling bluff, by beach, Beckoned by bravely bounding billows blue! Sir Patrick Fells. [68] B Alliterative W hims ey s SUSAN SIMPSON SUDDEN swallows swiftly skimming, Sunset's slowly spreading shade. Silvery songsters sweetly singing, Summer's soothing serenade. Susan Simpson strolled sedately, Stifling sobs, suppressing sighs. Seeing Stephen Slocum, stately She stopped, showing some surprise. "Say," said Stephen, "sweetest sigher; Say, shall Stephen spouseless stay?" Susan, seeming somewhat shyer, Showed submissiveness straightway. Summer's season slowly stretches, Susan Simpson Slocum she So she signed some simple sketches Soul sought soul successfully. Six Septembers Susan swelters; Six sharp seasons snow supplies; Susan's satin sofa shelters Six small Slocums side by side. Anonymous. [69] A Whimsey Anthology THE CUSHAT FM1E cushat croods, the corbie cries, The cuckoo conks, the prattling pies To geek there they begin; The jargon of the jangling jays, The cracking craws and keckling jays, They deav'd me with their din; The painted pawn, with Argus eyes, Can on his May-cock call, The turtle wails on wither'd trees, And echo answers all. Repeating with greeting, How fair Narcissus fell, By lying and spying His shadow in the well. The air was sober, saft, and sweet, Nae misty vapours, wind, nor weet, But quiet, calm, and clear; To foster Flora's fragrant flowers. Whereon Apollo's paramours Had trinkled mony a tear; The which, like silver shakers, shined, Embroidering Beauty's bed, Wherewith their heavy heads declined In Maye's colours clad; Some knopping, some dropping Of balmy liquor sweet, Excelling and smelling Through Phoebus' wholesome heat. Alexander Montgomery. [70] Alliterative W h i m s ey s QU^ERITUR DAWN that disheartens the desolate dunes, Dulness of day as it bursts on the beach, Sea-wind that shrillest the thinnest of tunes, What is the wisdom thy wailings would teach ? Far, far away, down the foam-frescoed reach, Where ravening rocks cleave the crest of the seas, Sigheth the sound of thy sonorous speech, As grey gull and guillemot gather their fees; Taking toll of the beasts that are bred in the fas. Foam-flakes fly farther than faint eyes can follow Drop down the desolate dunes and are done; Fleeter than foam-flowers flitteth the Swallow, Sheer for the sweets of the South and the Sun: What is thy tale, O thou treacherous Swallow? Sing me thy secret, Beloved of the Skies, That I may gather my garments and follow Flee on the path of thy pinions and rise Where strong storms cease and the weary wind dies. Lo! I am bound with the chains of my sorrow; Swallow, swift Swallow, ah, wait, for a while! Stay but a moment it may be to-morrow Chains shall be severed and sad souls shall smile! [71] A Whimsey Anthology Only a moment a mere minute's measure How shall it hurt such a swift one as thou ? Pitiless Swallow, full flushed for thy pleasure, Canst thou not even one instant allow To weaker-winged wanderers ? Wait for me now ! Rudyard Kipling. PROCURATORES OH, vestment of velvet and virtue, Oh, venomous victors of vice, Who hurt men who never have hurt you, Oh, calm, cold, crueller than ice! Why wilfully wage you this war? Is f All pity purged out of your breast ? Oh, purse-prigging procuratores, Oh, pitiless pest! We had smote and made redder than roses, With juice not of fruit nor of bud, The truculent townspeople's noses, And bathed brutal butchers in blood; And we all aglow in our glories, Heard you not in the deafening din; And ye came, O ye procuratores, And ran us all in! From the Sbotover Papers. [72] ACROSTICS ACROSTIC Earth now is green and heaven is blue; Lively spring which makes all new. lolly spring doth enter. Sweet young sunbeams do subdue Angry aged winter. Blasts are mild and seas are calm, Every meadow flows with balm, The earth wears all her riches, Harmonious birds sing such a psalm As ear and heart bewitches. Reserve (sweet spring) this nymph of ours, Eternal garlands of thy flowers, Green garlands never wasting In her shall last our state's fair spring, Now and forever flourishing, As long as heaven is lasting. Str yohn Davies. ACROSTIC Go, little poem, and present Respectful terms of compliment, A Gentle Lady bids thee speak; Courteous is She, though Thou be weak, fivoke from Heav'n, as thick as Manna, [73] A Whimsey Anthology Joy after joy, on Grace Joanna. On Fornham's glebe and pasture land A blessing pray. Long, long may stand, Not touch'd by time, the Rectory blithe. No grudging churl dispute his tithe. At Easter be the offerings due With cheerful spirit paid. Each pew In decent order fill'd. No noise Loud intervene to drown the voice, Learning or wisdom, of the Teacher. Impressive be the Sacred Preacher, And strict his notes on Holy Page. May young and old from age to age Salute and still point out the "Good Man's Parson- a S C '" Charles Lamb. ACROSTIC Lovely and loved, o'er the unconquered brave Your charms resistless, matchless girl, shall reign, Dear as the mother holds her infant's grave, In Love's warm regions, warm, romantic Spain. And should your fate to courts your steps ordain, Kings would in vain to regal pomp appeal, And lordly bishops kneel to you in vain, Nor Valour's fire, Love's power, nor Churchman's zeal Endure 'gainst Love's (time's up) untarnished steel. Bogart. [74] Acrostics ACROSTIC * " Areyou deaf, Father William ?"theyoungman said, " Did you hear what I told you just now ? "Excuse me for shouting! Don't waggle your head "Like a blundering, sleepy old cow! "A little maid dwelling in Wallington Town, "Is my friend, so I beg to remark; "Do you think she'd be pleased if a book were sent down "Entitled The Hunt of the Snark?'" "Pack it up in brown paper!" the old man cried, "And seal it with olive-and-dove. "I command you to do it!" he added with pride, "Nor forget, my good fellow, to send her beside "Easter Greetings, and give her my love." Lewis Carroll. AN ACROSTIC Friendship, thou'rt false ! I hate thy flattering smile ! Return to me those years I spent in vain. In early youth the victim of thy guile, Each joy took wing ne'er to return again, Ne'er to return; for, chilled by hopes deceived, Dully the slow-paced hours now move along; So changed the times when thoughtless I believed Her honeyed words, and heard her siren song. If e'er, as me, she lure some youth to stray, Perhaps, before too late, he'll listen to my lay. Anonymous. * By permission of the Macmillan Company. [75] A Whimsey Anthology AN ACROSTIC* A boat, beneath a sunny sky Lingering onward dreamily In an evening of July Children three that nestle near, Eager eye and willing ear, """"^leased a simple tale to hear- Long has paled that sunny sky: Echoes fade and memories die: Autumn frosts have slain July. Still she haunts me, phantomwise, Alice, moving under skies Never seen by waking eyes. Children, yet, the tale to hear, Eager eye and willing ear, lovingly shall nestle near. In a Wonderland they lie, Dreaming as the days go by, Dreaming as the summers die; Ever drifting down the stream Lingering in the golden gleam Life, what is it but a dream ? Lewis Carroll. * By permission of the Macmillan Company. [76] Acrostics DOUBLE ACROSTIC Unite and untie are the same so say you. Not in wedlock, I ween, has the unity been. In the drama of marriage, each wandering gout To a new face would fly all except you and I Each seeking to alter the spell in their scene. Anonymous. PECULIAR ACROSTIC A Valentine (Read the first letter of the first line, second letter of the second line, and so on.) i TJOR her this rhyme is penned, whose lum- inous eyes, Rightly expressive as the twins of Leda, SP$11 find her own sweet name, that nestling lies Upc(J the page, enwrapped from every reader. \ Seai^Ji narrowly the lines! they hold a treasure ' Diving a talisman an amulet That mu$fc be worn at heart. Search well the measure The woFtis-^he syllables! Do not forget Tha trivi;$est point, or you may lose your labour! And yet ther^is in this no Gordian knot Which one misfit not undo without a sabre, If one could merely comprehend the plot. [77] A Whimsey Anthology Rewritten upog> the leaf where now are peering Eye's scintillating soul, there lie perdus Three eloquent words oft uttered in the hearing < Of poets by poets as the name is a poet's, too, S Its letters, although naturally lying Like the Knight Pint9 Mendez Ferdinando Still form a synonym for Truth. Cease trying! You will not read the riddle, though you do the j best you can do! Edgar Allan Poe. PARTICULAR ACROSTIC Though crost in our affections, still the flames Of Honour shall secure our noble Names; Nor shall Our fate divorce our faith, Or cause The least Mislike of love's Diviner lawes. Crosses sometimes Are cures, Now let us prove, That no strength Shall Abate the power of love: Honour, wit, beauty, Riches, wise men call Frail fortune's Badges, In true love lies all. Therefore to him we Yield, our Vowes shall be Paid Read, and written in Eternity: That All may know when men grant no Redress, Much love can sweeten the unhappinesS. Thomas Jordan. [78] ENIGMAS AND CHARADES ENIGMA ON THE LETTER H T I A\VAS whispered in heaven, 'twas muttered in hell, And echo caught faintly the sound as it fell; On the confines of earth 'twas permitted to rest, And the depths of the ocean its presence confessed; 'Twill be found in the sphere when 'tis riven asunder, Be seen in the lightning, and heard in the thunder. 'Twas allotted to man with his earliest breath, It assists at his birth and attends him in death, Presides o'er his happiness, honor, and health, Is the prop of his house and the end of his wealth, In the heaps of the miser is hoarded with care, But is sure to be lost in his prodigal heir. It begins every hope, every wish it must bound, It prays with the hermit, with monarchs is crowned; Without it the soldier, the sailor, may roam, But woe to the wretch who expels it from home. In the whisper of conscience 'tis sure to be found, Nor e'en in the whirlwind of passion is drowned; 'Twill soften the heart, but, though deaf to the ear, It will make it acutely and instantly hear; [79] A M^himsey Anthology But, in short, let it rest like a delicate flower; Oh, breathe on it softly, it dies in an hour. Catherine Fanshawe. TRAVESTY OF MISS FANSHAWE'S ENIGMA I DWELLS in the Hearth, and I breathes in the Hair; If you searches the Hocean, you'll find that I'm there. The first of all Hangels in Holympus am Hi, Yet I'm banished from 'Eaven, expelled from on 'i g h. But, though on this Horb I'm destined to grovel, I'm ne'er seen in an 'Ouse, in an 'Ut, nor an 'Ovel. Not an 'Orse, not an 'Unter e'er bears me, alas! But often I'm found on the top of a Hass. I resides in a Hattic, and loves not to roam, And yet I'm invariably absent from 'Ome. Though 'Ushed in the 'Urricane, of the Hatmo- sphere part, I enters no 'Ed, I creeps into no 'Art. Only look, and you'll see in the Heye Hi appear; Only 'Ark, and you'll 'Ear me just breathe in the Hear. Though in sex not an 'E, I am (strange paradox) Not a bit of an 'EfFer, but partly a Hox. Of Heternity I'm the beginning! and, mark, Though I goes not with Noar, I'm first in the Hark. [80] Enigmas and Charades I'm never in 'Ealth, have with Fysic no power, I dies in a month, but comes back in a Hour. Horace Maykew. THE LETTER H'S PROTEST TO THE COCKNEYS WHEREAS by you I have been driven From 'ouse, from 'ome, from 'ope, from 'eaven, And placed by your most learned society In Hexile, Hanguish, and Hanxiety, Nay, charged without one just pretence With Harrogance and Himpudence, I here demand full restitution, And beg you'll mend your Hellocution. Mr. Skeat. ENIGMA ON THE LETTER I I AM not in youth, nor in manhood or age, But in infancy ever am known. I'm a stranger alike to the fool and the sage, And though I'm distinguished on history's page, I always am greatest alone. I'm not in the earth, nor the sun, nor the moon; You may search all the sky, I'm not there; In the morning and evening, though not in the noon, You may plainly perceive me, for, like a balloon, I am always suspended in air. [81] A Whimsey Anthology Though disease may possess me, and sickness, and pain, I am never in sorrow or gloom. Though in wit and in wisdom I equally reign, I'm the heart of all sin, and have long lived in vain, Yet I ne'er shall be found in the tomb. Catherine Fanshawf. AN UNSOLVED ENIGMA r I A HE noblest object in the works of art, The brightest scenes which nature can im- part; The well-known signal in the time of peace, The point essential in a tenant's lease; The farmer's comfort as he drives the plough, A soldier's duty, and a lover's vow; A contract made before the nuptial tie, A blessing riches never can supply; A spot that adds new charms to pretty faces, An engine used in fundamental cases; A planet seen between the earth and sun, A prize that merit never yet has won; A loss which prudence seldom can retrieve, The death of Judas, and the fall of Eve; A part between the ankle and the knee, A papist's toast and a physician's fee; A wife's ambition and a parson's dues, A miser's idol, and the badge of Jews. If now your happy genius can divine A corresponding word for every line, [82] Enigmas and Charades By the first letters plainly may be found An ancient city that is much renowned. Anna SewarJ. AN UNSOLVED ENIGMA I SIT stern as a rock when I'm raising the wind, But the storm once abated, I'm gentle and kind. I have Kings at my feet, who await but my nod To kneel down in the dust on the ground I have trod. Though seen by the world, I am known but to few; The Gentile deserts me, I am pork to the Jew. I have never passed but one night in the dark, And that was like Noah, alone in the ark. My weight is three pounds, my length is one mile, And when you have guessed me, you'll say with a smile That my first and my last are the best of this isle. Anonymous. AN UNSOLVED ENIGMA I'M the stoutest of voices in Orchestra heard, And yet in an Orchestra never have been. I'm a bird of bright plumage, yet less like a bird Nothing in nature ever was seen. [83] A Whimsey Anthology Touching earth I expire, in water I die, In air I lose breath, yet can swim and can fly. Darkness destroys me, and light is my death; You can't keep me alive without stopping my breath. If my name can't be guessed by a boy or a man, By a girl or a woman it certainly can. Anonymous. OLD RIDDLE* GOD made Adam out of dust; But thought it best to make me first. And I was made before the man According to God's holy plan. My body he did make complete; But without arms, or legs, or feet. My ways and actions did control And I was made without a soul. A living creature I became; 'Twas Adam that gave me my name. Then from his presence I withdrew; Nor more of Adam ever knew. I did my Maker's laws obey: From them I never went astray; Thousands of miles I roam in fear; But seldom on the land appear. But God in me did something see, And put a living soul in me. A soul in me the Lord did claim, And took from me that soul again. * Answer: The whale that swallowed Jonah. [84] Enigmas and Charades And when from me that soul was fled, I was the same as when first made. And without arms, or legs, or soul, I travel now from pole to pole; I labor hard both day and night; To fallen men I give great light. Thousands of people young and old, Do by my death great light behold. No fear of death doth trouble me, Nor happiness I cannot see. To heaven above I ne'er shall go; Nor to the grave, nor hell below. The Scriptures I cannot believe Whether right or wrong I can't conceive Although my name therein is found They are to me an empty sound. And when friends these lines do read Go search the Scriptures with all speed, And if my name you can't find there, It will be strange I do declare. Anonymous. A FAMOUS RIDDLE* and commiserate One who was blind, Homeless and desolate, Void of a mind; Guileless, deceiving, Through unbelieving, * Answer: See I Samuel xix. 13 [85] A Whimsey Anthology Free from all sin; By mortals adored, Still I ignored The world I was in. King Ptolemy's, Caesar's And Tiglath-pileser's Birthdays are shown; Wise men, astrologers, All are acknowledgers, Mine is unknown, I ne'er had a father Or mother; or rather, If I had either, Then they were neither Alive at my birth; Lodged in a palace. Hunted by malice, I did not inherit By lineage or merit A spot on the earth. Nursed among pagans, No one baptized me, A sponsor I had Who ne'er catechised me; She gave me the name To her heart was the dearest, She gave me the place To her bosom was nearest; But one look of kindness She cast on me never, Nor a word in my blindness I heard from her ever. [86] Enigmas and Charades Compassed by dangers, Nothing could harm me; By foemen and strangers, Naught could alarm me; I saved, I destroyed; I blessed, I annoyed; Kept a crown for a Prince, But had none of my own; Filled the place of a King, But ne'er sat on a throne; Rescued a warrior; baffled a plot; Was what I seemed not, Seemed what I was not; Devoted to slaughter, A price on my head, A King's lovely daughter Watched by my bed; Though gently she dressed me, Fainting with fear, She never caressed me Nor wiped off a tear, Never moistened my lips Though parching and dry (What marvel a blight Should pursue till she die!) 'Twas royalty nursed me, Wretched and poor; 'Twas royalty cursed me In secret, I'm sure. I live not, I died not; But tell you I must That ages have passed [87] A W him s ey Anthology Since I first turned to dust. This paradox whence ? This squalor! This splendor! Say! was I a King, Or a silly pretender? Fathom the mystery, Deep in my history! Was I a man ? An angel supernal ? A demon infernal ? Solve it who can! A Anonymous OLD RIDDLE* IF it be true, as Welshmen say, Honor depends on pedigree, Then stand by clear the way And let me have fair play. For, though you boast thro' ages dark Your pedigree from Noah's ark, I, too, was with him there. For I was Adam, Adam I, And I was Eve, and Eve was I, In spite of wind and weather; But, mark me Adam was not I, Neither was Mrs. Adam I, Unless they were together. Suppose, then, Eve and Adam talking With all my heart, but if they're walking There ends all simile, * Answer : A bedfellow. [88] Enigmas and Charades For, tho' I've tongue and often talk, And tho' I've feet, yet when I walk There is an end of me! Not such an end but I have breath, Therefore to such a kind of death I have but small objection. I may be Turk, I may be Jew, And tho' a Christian, yet 'tis true I die by resurrection! Anonymous. ENIGMA ON COD CUT off my head, and singular I act, Cut off my tail, and plural I appear; Cut off my head and tail, and, wondrous fact, Although my middle's left, there's nothing there. What is my head cut off? A sounding sea; What is my tail cut off? A flowing river, In whose translucent depths I fearless play, Parent of sweetest sounds, yet mute forever. Anonymous. CHARADE * COME from my First, ay, come; The battle dawn is nigh, And the screaming trump and the thun- dering-drum Are calling thee to die. * Campbell. [89] A Whimsey Anthology Fight, as thy father fought; Fall, as thy father fell: Thy task is taught, thy shroud is wrought; So forward and farewell! Toll ye my Second, toll; Fling high the flambeau's light; And sing the hymn for a parted soul Beneath the silent night; The helm upon his head, The cross upon his breast, Let the prayer be said, and the tear be shed: Now take him to his rest! Call ye my Whole, go call The lord of lute and lay, And let him greet the sable pall With a noble song to-day; Ay, call him by his name, No fitter hand may crave To light the flame of a soldier's fame On the turf of a soldier's grave! Winthrop Mackworth Praed. [90] ANAGRAMS A TELEGRAM ANAGRAMMATISED r 1 CHOUGH but a late germ, with a wondrous elation, Yet like a great elm it o'ershadows each station, Et malgre the office is still a large free mart, So joyous the crowd was, you'd thought it a glee mart ; But they raged at no news from the nations bellig- erent, And I said, Lefm rage, since the air is refrigerant. I then met large numbers, whose drink was not sherbet, Who scarce could look up when their eyes the gas- glare met ; So when I had learned from commercial adviser, That mere gait for sand was the great fertiliser, I bade Mr. Eaglet, although 'twas ideal, Get some from the clay-pit, and so get'm real ; Then, just as my footstep was leaving the portal, I met an elm targe on a great Highland mortal, With the maid he had wooed by the loch's flowery margelet, And rowed in his boat, which for rhyme's sake call bargelet, [91] A Whimsey Anthology And blithe to the breeze would have set the sail daily, But it blew at that rate which our sailors term gale, aye; I stumbled against the fair bride he had married, When a merle gat at large from a cage that she car- ried; She gave a loud screech! and I could not well blame her, But lame as I was, I'd no wish to get lamer ; So I made my escape ne'er an antelope fleeter, Lest my verse, like the poet, should limp through lag metre. Dr. John Abernetby. [92] PALINDROMES* PALINDROMES ONE winter's eve around the fire, a cosy group, we sat, Engaged, as was our custom old, in after- dinner chat: Small talk it was, no doubt, because the smaller folk were there, And they, the young monopolists! absorbed the lion's share. Conundrums, riddles, rebuses, cross-questions, puns atrocious, Taxed all their ingenuity, till Peter the precocious Old head on shoulders juvenile cried, 'Now for a new task, Let's try our hand at Palindromes!' 'Agreed! But first,' we ask, 'Pray, Peter, what are Palindromes?' The forward imp replied, 'A Palindrome's a string of words, of sense or mean- ing void, Which reads both ways the same; and here, with your permission, * Words or phrases which read the same backward or forward. [93] A Whimsey Anthology I'll cite some half-a-score of samples, lacking all precision, (But held together by loose rhymes) to test my definition!' "A milksop jilted by his lass, or wandering in his wits, Might murmur, Stiff, O dairyman, in a myriad of fits! A limner, by photography dead beat in competition, Thus grumbled : No, it is opposed, art sees trade's opposition ! A nonsense-loving nephew might his soldier uncle dun, With Now stop, Major-general, are negro jam pots won ! A supercilious grocer, if inclined that way, might snub A child with, But Ragusa store, babe, rots a sugar- tub ! Thy sceptre, Alexander, is a fortress, cried Hephaes- tion; Great A. said, No, it's a bar of gold, a bad log for a bastion ! A timid creature fearing rodents mice, and such small fry Stop, Syrian, I start at rats in airy spots, might cry. A simple soul, whose wants are few, might say with hearty zest, Desserts I desire not, so long no lost one rise dis- tressed. [94] Palindromes A stern Canadian parent might in earnest, not in fun Exclaim, No sot nor Ottawa law at Toronto, son ! A crazy dentist might declare, as something strange or new, That Paget saw an Irish tooth, sir, in a waste-gap ! True! A surly student, hating sweets, might answer with elan, Name tarts, no, medieval slave, I demonstrate man ! He who in Nature's bitters findeth sweet food every day, Eureka! till I pull up ill I take rue, well might say." H. Campkin. PALINDROME LINES SALTA, tu levis es; summus se si velut Atlas, (Omina se sinimus,) suminis es animo. Sin, oro, caret arcana cratera coronis Unam areas, animes semina sacra manu. Angere regnato, mutatum, o tangere regna, Sana tero, tauris si ruat oret angs: Milo subi rivis, summus si viribus olim, Muta sedes; animal lamina sede satum. Tangeret, i videas, illisae divite regnat; Aut atros ubinam manibus orta tua! O tu casurus, rem non mersurus acuto Telo, sis-ne, tenet? non tenet ensis, olet." Anonymous. [95] MNEMONICS LADY MOON (How to tell her age) OLADY MOON, your horns point toward the east; Shine, be increased; 3 Lady Moon, your horns point toward the west; Wane, be at rest. Christina G. Rossetti. DAYS IN THE MONTHS 'T^HIRTY days hath September, April, June, and November, February has twenty-eight alone; All the rest have thirty-one, Excepting leap-year, that's the time When February's days are twenty-nine. Anonymous. [96] Mnemonics THE PERFECT GREYHOUND IF you would have a good tyke, Of which there are few like, He must be headed like a snake, Necked like a drake, Backed like a bean, Tailed like a bat, And footed like a cat. Old Rhyme. THE CUCKOO The Cuckoo's Habits IN April, Come he will; In May, He sings all day; In June, He changes his tune; In July, He makes ready to fly; In August, Go he must. Old Rhyme. [97] A IV him s ey A nt holo gy TWO APPLE-HOWLING SONGS [Sung in orchards by Apple-howlers on Twelfth Day.] SURREY HERE stands a good apple-tree. Stand fast at root, Bear well at top; Every little twig Bear an apple big; Every little bough Bear an apple now; Hats full! Caps full! Threescore sacks full! Hullo, boys! hullo! DEVONSHIRE HERE'S to thee, old apple-tree, Whence thou may'st bud, and whence thou may'st blow, And whence thou may'st bear apples enow! Hats full! Caps full! Bushel bushel sacks full, Old parson's breeches full, And my pockets full too! Huzza ! Anonymous. [98] Mnemonics DAYS OF BIRTH MONDAY'S child is fair of face, Tuesday's child is full of grace, Wednesday's child is full of woe, Thursday's child has far to go, Friday's child is loving and giving, Saturday's child works hard for its living, And a child that's born on the Sabbath-day Is fair and wise and good and gay. Old Rhyme. PROGNOSTICATIONS r^UT your nails Monday, you cut them for news; Cut them on Tuesday, a pair of new shoes; Cut them on Wednesday you cut them for health; Cut them on Thursday, 'twill add to your wealth; Cut them on Friday, you cut them for woe; Tut them on Saturday, a journey you'll go; Dut them on Sunday you cut them for evil, or all the week long you'll be ruled by the devil. Anonymous. HOURS OF SLEEP NATURE requires five; custom gives seven; Laziness takes nine, and wickedness eleven. Anonymous. [99] A Whimsey Anthology OLD ADAGE EARLY to bed and early to rise Makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise. Anonymous. -'. < h- i P OLD SAW HE who would thrive, must rise at five; He who hath thriven, may lie till seven. Anonymous. FRENCH ADAGE LEVER a cinq, diner a neuf, Souper a cinq, coucher a neuf, Fait vivre d'ans nonante et neuf. Anonymous, j A CAUTION IF you your lips Would keep from slips, Of these five things beware: Of whom you speak, To whom you speak, And how, and when, and where. Anonymous, i Mnemonics CAUTIONS HE that spendeth much, And getteth nought; He that oweth much, And hath nought; He that looketh in his purse And findeth nought He may be sorry, And say nought. He that may and will not, He then that would shall not, He that would and cannot, May repent and sigh not. He that sweareth Till no man trust him; He that lieth; Till no man believe him; He that borroweth Till no man will lend him,- Let him go where No man knoweth him. He that hath a good master, And cannot keep him; [101] I4^himsey Anthology He that hath a good servant, And not content with him; He that hath such conditions That no man loveth him, May well know other, But few men will know him. Hugh Rhodes. PHILOSOPHIC ADVICE HE who knows not. and knows not that he knows not; he is a fool, shun him. He who knows not, and knows that he knows not; he is simple, teach him. He who knows, and knows not that he knows; he is asleep, wake him. He who knows, and knows that he knows; he is wise, follow him. Anonymous. THE RIGHT SORT OF A FELLOW YOU may know the fellow Who thinks he thinks, Or the fellow who thinks he knows; But find the fellow Who knows he thinks And you know the fellow who knows. Anonymous. [ 102 ] Mnemonics A MAN OF WORDS A MAN of words and not of deeds, Is like a garden full of weeds; And when the weeds begin to grow, It's like a garden full of snow; And when the snow begins to fall, It's like a bird upon the wall; And when the bird away does fly, It's like an eagle in the sky; And when the sky begins to roar, It's like a lion at the door; And when the door begins to crack, It's like a stick across your back; And when your back begins to smart, It's like a penknife in your heart; And when your heart begins to bleed, You're dead, and dead, and dead indeed. Anonymous. SHERIDAN'S CALENDAR JANUARY snowy, February flowy, J March blowy, April showry, May flowery, June bowery, c 103] A Whimsey Anthology July moppy, August croppy, September poppy, October breezy, November wheezy, December freezy. A RULE OF THREE THERE is a rule to drink, I think, A rule of three That you'll agree With me Cannot be beaten And tends our lives to sweeten: Drink ere you eat, And while you eat, And after you have eaten ! Wallace Rice. REASONS FOR DRINKING IF all be true that I do think, There are five reasons we should drink; Good wine a friend or being dry Or lest we should be by and by Or any other reason why. Dr. Henry Aldrich. [ 104] Mnemonics A BACCHANALIAN TOAST TARINK up Your cup, But not spill wine; For if you Do 'Tis an ill sign. Robert Herrick. [105] CATALOGUE WHIMSEYS THE HUNDRED BEST BOOKS FIRST there's the Bible, And then the Koran, Odgers on Libel, Pope's Essay on Man, Confessions of Rousseau, The Essays of Lamb, Robinson Crusoe And Omar Khayyam, Volumes of Shelley And Venerable Bede, Machiavelli And Captain Mayne Reid, Fox upon Martyrs And Liddell and Scott, Stubbs on the Charters, The works of La Motte, The Seasons by Thomson, And Paul de Verlaine, Theodore Mommsen And Clemens (Mark Twain), The Rocks of Hugh Miller, The Mill on the Floss, The Poems of Schiller, The Iliados, [106] Catalogue IV him s ey s Don Quixote (Cervantes), La Pucelle by Voltaire, Inferno (that's Dante's), And Vanity Fair, Conybeare-Howson, Brillat-Savarin, And Baron Munchausen, Mademoiselle De Maupin, The Dramas of Marlowe, The Three Musketeers, Clarissa Harlowe, And the Pioneers, Sterne's Tristram Shandy, The Ring and the Book, And Handy Andy, And Captain Cook, The Plato of Jowett, And Mill's Pol. Econ., The Haunts of Howitt, The Encheiridion, Lothair by Disraeli, And Boccaccio, The Student's Paley, And Westward Ho! The Pharmacopoeia, Macaulay's Lays, Of course The Medea, And Sheridan's Plays, The Odes of Horace, And Verdant Green, The Poems of Morris, The Faerie Queen, [107] A Whimsey AnthoCogy The Stones of Venice, Natural History (White's), And then Pendennis, The Arabian Nights, Cicero's Orations, Plain Tales from the Hills, The Wealth of Nations, And Byles on Bills, As in a Glass Darkly, Demosthenes' Crown, The Treatise of Berkeley, Tom Hughes's Tom Brown, The Mahabharata, The Humour of Hook, The Kreutzer Sonata, And Lalla Rookh, Great Battles by Creasy, And Hudibras, And Midshipman Easy, And Rasselas, Shakespeare in extenso And the ^Ejid4^ And Euclid (Colenso), The Woman who Did, Poe's Tales of Mystery, Then Rabelais, Guizot's French History, And Men of the Day, Rienzi, by Lytton, The Poems of Burns, The Story of Britain, The Journey (that's Sterne's), [108] Catalogue W ' bims ey s The House of Seven Gables, Carroll's Looking-glass, JEsop his Fables, And Leaves of Grass, Departmental Ditties, The Woman in White, The Tale of Two Cities, Ships that Pass in the Night, Meredith's Feverel, Gibbon's Decline, Walter Scott's Peveril, And some verses of mine. Mostyn T. Pigott. A RHYME FOR MUSICIANS H ANDEL, Bendel, Mendelssohn, Brendel, Wendel, Jadassohn, Muller, Hiller, Heller, Franz, Plothow, Flotow, Burto, Ganz. Meyer, Geyer, Meyerbeer, Heyer, Weyer, Beyer, Beer, Lichner, Lachner, Schachner, Dietz, Hill, Will, Brull, Grill, Drill, Reiss, Rietz. Hansen, Jansen, Jensen, Kiehl, Siade, Gade, Laade, Stiehl, Naumann, Riemann, Diener, Wurst, Niemann, Kiemann, Diener, Furst. [ 109] A Whimsey Anthology Kochler, Dochler, Rubinstein, Himmel, Hummel, Rosenhain, Lauer, Bauer, Kleinecke, Homberg, Plomberg, Reinecke. E. Lemke. A 'TIS EVER THUS D astra, De Profundis, Keats, Bacchus, Sophocles; Ars Longa, Euthanasia, Spring, The Eumenides. Dead Leaves, Metempsychosis, Waiting, Theocritus; Vanitas Vanitatum, My Ship, De Gustibus. Dum Vivimus Vivamus, Sleep, Palingenesis; Salvini, Sursum Corda, At Mt. Desert, To Miss - These are part of the contents Of "Violets of Song," The first poetic volume Of Susan Mary Strong. R. K. Munkittrick. [no] Catalogue W hims ey s INDIAN TRIBES THE Sioux and the Algonquins, where are these? Where, too, are now the Hurons and Pawnees, The Chickasaws, Oneidas, and Shawnees, The Winnebagos, and the Muscogees, The Saukies, the Comanches, and Uchees, The Kansas, Seminoles, and Weetumkees, The Mohegans, Nihantics, and Natchees, The Pequots, Miamis, and Yamasees, The Tuscaroras and the Waterees, The Narragansetts, and Menomonees, The Choctaws, Delawares, and Cherokees, The Eries, Yamacraws, and Mosokees, The Mohawks, and the Chickahominies, The Kickapoos, and tall Walhominies, The Androscoggins, and the Omahas, The Alibams, and Mitchigamuas, The Tangeboas, and the Pammahas, The Apalachias, and the Ostonoos, The Sacs and Foxes and the Onodoos, The Pottawattomies and loways, The Creeks, Catawbas, and Ojibbeways, The Senecas, Peorias, and Crows Who sank beneath the burden of their woes? How few remain of all those valiant hosts That peopled once the prairies and the coasts ? Anonymous Cm] A Whimsey Anthology SIGNS OF RAIN (Forty reasons for not accepting an invitation of a friend to make an excursion with him.) 1. THE hollow winds begin to blow; 2. The clouds look black, the glass is low, 3. The soot falls down, the spaniels sleep, 4. And spiders from their cobwebs peep. 5. Last night the sun went pale to bed, 6. The moon in halos hid her head; 7. The boding shepherd heaves a sigh, 8. For see, a rainbow spans the sky! 9. The walls are damp, the ditches smell, 10. Closed is the pink-hued pimpernel. 11. Hark how the chairs and tables crack! 12. Old Betty's nerves are on the rack; 13. Loud quacks the duck, the peacocks cry, 14. The distant hills are seeming nigh, 15. How restless are the snorting swine! 16. The busy flies disturb the kine, 17. Low o'er the grass the swallow wings, 1 8. The cricket, too, how sharp he sings! 19. Puss on the hearth, with velvet paws, 20. Sits wiping o'er her whiskered jaws; 21. Through the clear streams the fishes rise, 22. And nimble catch the incautious flies. 23. The glow-worms, numerous and light, 24. Illumed the dewy dell last night; 25. At dusk the squalid toad was seen, 26. Hopping and crawling o'er the green; C at c.logu e IV him s ey s 27. The whirling dust the wind obeys, 28. And in the rapid eddy plays; 29. The frog has changed his yellow vest, 30. And in a russet coat is dressed. 31. Though June the air is cold and still, 32. The mellow blackbird's voice is shrill; 33. My dog, so altered in his taste, 34. Quits mutton-bones on grass to feast; 35. And see yon rooks, how odd their flight! 36. They imitate the gliding kite, 37. And seem precipitate to fall, 38. As if they felt the piercing ball. 39. 'Twill surely rain; I see with sorrow 40. Our jaunt must be put off to-morrow. Edward Jenner. SIMILES AS wet as a fish as dry as a bone; As live as a bird as dead as a stone; As plump as a partridge as poor as a rat; As strong as a horse as weak as a cat; As hard as a flint as soft as a mole; As white as a lily as black as a coal; As plain as a pike-staff as rough as a bear; As light as a drum as free as the air; As heavy as lead as light as a feather; As steady as time uncertain as weather; As hot as an oven as cold as a frog; As gay as a lark as sick as a dog; As slow as the tortoise as swift as the wind; As true as the Gospel as false as mankind; [113] A Whimsey Anthology As thin as a herring as fat as a pig; As proud as a peacock as blithe as a grig; As savage as tigers as mild as a dove; As stiff as a poker as limp as a glove; As blind as a bat as deaf as a post; As cool as a cucumber as warm as a toast; As flat as a flounder as round as a ball; As blunt as a hammer as sharp as an awl; As red as a ferret as safe as the stocks; As bold as a thief as sly as a fox; As straight as an arrow as crook'd as a bow; As yellow as saffron as black as a sloe; As brittle as glass as tough as gristle; As neat as my nail as clean as a whistle; As good as a feast as bad as a witch; As light as is day as dark as is pitch; As brisk as a bee as dull as an ass; As full as a tick as solid as brass. Anonymous. A NURSERY RHYME ONE old Oxford ox opening oysters; Two teetotums totally tired trying to trot to Tadbury; Three tall tigers tippling ten penny tea; Four fat friars fanning fainting flies; Five frippy Frenchmen foolishly fishing for flies; Six sportsmen shooting snipes; Seven Severn salmons swallowing shrimps; Eight Englishmen eagerly examining Europe; Catalogue W him s ey s Nine nimble noblemen nibbling nonpareils; Ten tinkers tinkling upon ten tin tinder-boxes with ten tenpenny tacks; Eleven elephants elegantly equipt; Twelve typographical typographers typically trans- lating types. Anonymous. G LONDON BELLS I AY go up and gay go down, To ring the bells of London town. Bull's eyes and targets, Say the bells of St. Marg'ret's. Brickbats and tiles, Say the bells of St. Giles'. Halfpence and farthings, Say the bells of St. Martin's. Oranges and lemons, Say the bells of St. Clement's. Pancakes and fritters, Say the bells of St. Peter's. Two sticks and an apple, Say the bells at WhitechapeL [US] A Whimsey Anthology Old Father Baldpate, Say the slow bells at Aldgate. You owe me ten shillings, Say the bells at St. Helen's. Poker and tongs, Say the bells at St. John's. Kettles and pans, Say the bells at St. Ann's. When will you pay me? Say the bells of Old Bailey. When I grow rich, Say the bells at Shoreditch. Pray when will that be ? Say the bells at Stepney. I am sure I don't know, Says the great bell at Bow. Here comes a candle to light you to bed, And here comes a chopper to chop off your head. ! Anonymous. [116] Catalogue IV him s ey s HE COURT OF ALDERMEN AT FISH- MONGERS* HALL IS that dace or perch?" Said Alderman Birch; "I take it for herring/' Said Alderman Perring. "This jack's very good," Said Alderman Wood; " But its bones might a man slay," Said Alderman Ansley. "I'll butter what I get," Said Alderman Heygate. "Give me some stewed carp," Said Alderman Thorp. "The roe's dry as pith," Said Alderman Smith. "Don't cut so far down," Said Alderman Brown; "But nearer the fin," Said Alderman Glyn, "I've finished, i' faith, man," Said Alderman Waithman: "And I, too, i' fatkins," Said Alderman Atkins. "They've crimped this cod drolly," Said Alderman Scholey; ' 'Tis bruised at the ridges," Said Alderman Brydges. "Was it caught in a drag? Nay," Said Alderman Magnay. A W him s ey A n t ho lo gy "Twas brought by two men," Said Alderman Ven ables: "Yes, in a box/' Said Alderman Cox. "They care not how fur 'tis," Said Alderman Curtis "From the air kept, and from sun/' Said Alderman Thompson; "Packed neatly in straw," Said Alderman Shaw: "In ice got from Gunter," Said Alderman Hunter. "This ketchup is sour," Said Alderman Flower; "Then steep it in claret," Said Alderman Garret. Anonymous. EARTH WHAT is earth, Sexton? A place to dig I graves. What is earth, Rich man ? A place to work slaves. What is earth, Greybeard ? A place to grow old. What is earth, Miser ? A place to dig gold. What is earth, Schoolboy ? A place for my play. What is earth, Maiden ? A place to be gay. What is earth, Seamstress ? A place where I weep. What is earth, Sluggard ? A good place to sleep. [118] Catalogue Whimseys What is earth. Soldier? A place for a battle. What is earth, Herdsman ? A place to raise cattle. What is earth, Widow? A place of true sorrow. What is earth, Tradesman? I'll tell you to-mor- row. What is earth, Sick man ? 'Tis nothing to me. What is earth, Sailor? My home is the sea. What is earth, Statesman? A place to win fame. What is earth, Author? I'll write there my name. What is earth, Monarch ? For my realm it is given. What is earth, Christian ? The gateway of heaven. Anonymous. THE JOYS OF MARRIAGE HOW uneasy is his life, Who is troubled with a wife! Be she ne'er so fair or comely, Be she ne'er so foul or homely, Be she ne'er so young and toward, Be she ne'er so old and froward, Be she kind, with arms enfolding, Be she cross, and always scolding, Be she blithe or melancholy, Have she wit, or have she folly, Be she wary, be she squandering, Be she staid, or be she wandering, Be she constant, be she fickle, Be she fire, or be she ickle; [119] A W him s ey Anthology Be she pious or ungodly, Be she chaste, or what sounds oddly: Lastly, be she good or evil, Be she saint, or be she devil, Yet, uneasy is his life Who is married to a wife. Charles Cotton. A NEW-YEAR'S GIFT FOR SHREWS WHO marrieth a wife upon a Monday, If she will not be good upon a Tuesday, Let him go to the wood upon a Wednes- day, And cut him a cudgel upon the Thursday, And pay her soundly upon a Friday: And she mend not, the divil take her a* Saturday: Then he may eat his meat in peace on the Sunday. Anonymous. T ONE WEEK HE year had gloomily begun For Willie Weeks, a poor man's SUN. He was beset with bill and dun And he had very little MON. "This cash," said he, "won't pay my dues, I've nothing here but ones and TUES." [ 120] Catalogue W him s ey s A bright thought struck him, and he said, "The rich Miss Goldrocks I will WED.' But when he paid his court to her, She lisped, but firmly said, "No, THUR!" "Alas!" said he, "then I must die!" His soul went where they say souls FRI. They found his gloves, and coat, and hat; The Coroner upon them SAT. Carolyn Wells. [121] TONGUE TWISTERS THE TWINER WHEN a twiner a twisting will twist him a twist, For the twining his twist he three twines doth entwist; But if one of the twines of the twist do untwist, The twine that untwisteth, untwisteth the twist. Untwirling the twine that untwisteth between, He twists with his twister the two in a twine; Then twice having twisted the twines of the twine, He twisteth the twines he had twisted in vain. The twain that, in twisting before in the twine, As twines were entwisted, he now doth untwine, 'Twixt the twain intertwisting a twine more between He, twisting his twister, makes a twist of the twine. Dr. Wallis. Q UN CORDIER UAND un cordier cordant Veut corder une corde, Trois cordons accordant A sa corde il accorde. [ 122] Tongue Twisters Si Tun des trois cordons De la corde decorde, Le cordon decordant Fait decorder la corde. Allain Chattier. THE THATCHER A THATCHER of Thatchwood went to That- chet a-thatching; Did a Thatcher of Thatchwood go to Thatchet a-thatching? If a thatcher of Thatchwood went to Thatchet a- thatching, Where's the thatching the thatcher of Thatchwood has thatched ? Anonymous. PETER PIPER T)ETER PIPER picked a peck of pickled pep- pers. A peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked. If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers, Where's the peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked ? Anonymous. [ 123 ] A Whimsey Anthology SIMPLE ENGLISH OFTTIMES when I put on my gloves, I wonder if I'm sane, For when I put the right one on, The right seems to remain To be put on that is, 'tis left; Yet if the left I don, The other one is left, and then I have the right one on. But still I have the left on right; The right one, though, is left To go right on the left right hand All right, if I am deft. Ray Clarke Rose. WHAT HIAWATHA PROBABLY DID HE slew the noble Mudjekeewis, With his skin he made him mittens; Made them with the fur side inside; Made them with the skin-side outside; He, to keep the warm side inside, Put the cold side, skin-side outside; He, to keep the cold side outside, Put the warm side, fur-side, inside: That's why he put the cold side outside, Why he put the warm side inside, Why he turned them inside outside. Anonymous, MONORHYMES UNDER THE TREES UNDER the trees!" Who but agrees That there is magic in words such as these : Promptly one sees shake in the breeze Stately lime-avenues haunted of bees: Where, looking far over buttercupp'd leas, Lads and "fair shes" (that is Byron, and he's An authority) lie very much at their ease; Taking their teas, or their duck and green peas, Or, if they prefer it, their plain bread and cheese: Not objecting at all, though it's rather a squeeze, And the glass is, I daresay, at 80 degrees. Some get up glees, and are mad about Ries And Sainton, and Tamberlik's thrilling high Cs; Or if painters, hold forth upon Hunt and Maclise, And the tone and the breadth of that landscape of Lee's; Or, if learned, on nodes and the moon's apogees, Or, if serious, on something of A.K.H.B.'s, Or the latest attempt to convert the Chaldees; Or in short about all things, from earthquakes to fleas. Some sit in twos or (less frequently) threes, With their innocent lambswool or book on their knees, A JVhimsey Anthology And talk, and enact, any nonsense you please, As they gaze into eyes that are blue as the seas; And you hear an occasional "Harry, don't tease" From the sweetest of lips in the softest of keys, And other remarks, which to me are Chinese. And fast the time flees; till a ladylike sneeze, Or a portly papa's more elaborate wheeze, Makes Miss Tabitha seize on her brown muffatees, And announce as a fact that it's going to freeze, And that young people ought to attend to their Ps And their Qs, and not court every form of disease. Then Tommy eats up the three last ratafias, And pretty Louise wraps her robe de cerise Round a bosom as tender as Widow Machree's, And (in spite of the pleas of her lorn vis-a-vis) Goes to wrap up her uncle a patient of Skey's, Who is prone to catch chills, like all old Bengalese: But at bedtime I trust he'll remember to grease The bridge of his nose, and preserve his rupees From the premature clutch of his fond legatees; Or at least have no fees to pay any M.D.s For the cold his niece caught, sitting under the Trees. C. S. Calverley. THE RULING POWER GOLD! Gold! Gold! Gold! Bright and yellow, hard and cold, Molten, graven, hammered and rolled; Heavy to get, and light to hold; Hoarded, bartered, bought and sold, [126] M on or hy m e s Stolen, borrowed, squandered, doled; Spurned by the young, but hugged by the old, To the very verge of the churchyard mould; Price of many a crime untold; Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Good or bad, a thousandfold! Thomas Hood THE MUSICAL ASS r I A HE fable which I now present, Occurred to me by accident: And whether bad or excellent, Is merely so by accident. A stupid ass this morning went Into a field by accident: And cropped his food, and was content, Until he spied by accident A flute, which some oblivious gent Had left behind by accident; When, sniffling it with eager scent, He breathed on it by accident, And made the hollow instrument Emit a sound by accident. "Hurrah, hurrah!" exclaimed the brute, "How cleverly I play the flute!" A fool, in spite of nature's bent, May shine for once, by accident. Tomaso de Tnarte, [ 127] A Whimsey Anthology THE ROMAN NOSE r I A HAT Roman nose! that Roman nose! Has robbed my bosom of repose; For when in sleep my eyelids close, It haunts me still, that Roman nose! Between two eyes as black as sloes The bright and flaming ruby glows: That Roman nose! that Roman nose! And beats the blush of damask rose. I walk the streets, the alleys, rows; I look at all the Jems and Joes; And old and young, and friends and foes, But cannot find a Roman nose! Then blessed be the day I chose That nasal beauty of my beau's; And when at last to Heaven I goes, I hope to spy his Roman nose! Merrie England TO MRS. THRALE ON HER THIRTY- FIFTH BIRTHDAY OFT in danger, yet alive, We are come to thirty-five; Long may better years arrive, Better years than thirty-five. [128] ' M on or hy m e s Could philosophers contrive Life to stop at thirty-five, Time his hours should never drive O'er the bounds of thirty-five. High to soar, and deep to dive, Nature gives at thirty-five. Ladies, stock and tend your hive, Trifle not at thirty-five; For, howe'er we boast and strive, Life declines from thirty-five. He that ever hopes to thrive Must begin by thirty-five; And all who wisely wish to wive Must look on Thrale at thirty-five. Bo swell. A RHYME FOR TIPPERARY A POET there was in sad quandary, To find a rhyme for Tipperary. Long laboured he through January, Yet found no rhyme for Tipperary; Toiled every day in February, But toiled in vain for Tipperary; Searched Hebrew text and commentary But searched in vain for Tipperary; Bored all his friends in Inverary, To find a rhyme for Tipperary; Implored the aid of "Paddy Gary," Yet still no rhyme for Tipperary; He next besought his mother Mary To tell him rhyme for Tipperary; [ 129] A Whimsey Anthology But she, good woman, was no fairy, Nor witch, though born in Tipperary; Knew everything about her dairy, But not the rhyme for Tipperary; The stubborn Muse he could not vary, For still the lines would run contrary Whene'er he thought on Tipperary. And though of time he was not chary, 'Twas thrown away on Tipperary. Till of his wild-goose chase most weary, He vowed he'd leave out Tipperary. But no the theme he might not vary, His longing was not temporary, To find meet rhyme for Tipperary. He sought among the gay and airy, He pestered all the military. Committed many a strange vagary, Bewitched, it seemed, by Tipperary. He wrote, post-haste, to Darby Leary, Besought with tears his Aunty Sairie; But sought he far, or sought he near, he Ne'er found a rhyme for Tipperary. He travelled sad through Cork and Kerry, He drove like mad through sweet Dunleary, Kicked up a precious tantar-ara, But found no rhyme for Tipperary; Lived fourteen weeks at Stan-ar-ara, Was well-nigh lost in Glenegary, Then started slick for Denerara, In search of rhyme for Tipperary. Through Yankee-land, sick, solitary. He roamed by forest, lake, and prairie, [ 130] M on or hy m e s He went per terrain et per mare, But found no rhyme for Tipperary. Through orient climes on Dromedary, On camel's back through great Sahara; His travels were extraordinary In search of rhyme for Tipperary. Fierce as a gorgon on chimaera, Fierce as Alecto or Megaera, Fiercer than e'er a love-sick bear, he Ranged through the 'Monde " of Tipperary. His cheeks grew thin and wondrous hairy, His visage long, his aspect "eerie," His tout ensemble, faith, would scare ye, Amidst the wilds of Tipperary. Becoming hypochon-dri-ary, He sent for his apothecary, Who ordered "balm" and "saponary," Herbs rare to find in Tipperary. In his potations ever wary, His choicest drink was "home gooseberry." On swipes, skim-milk, and smallest beer, he Hunted rhyme for his Tipperary. Had he imbibed good old Madeira, Drank pottle-deep of golden sherry Of FalstafFs sack, or ripe Canary, No rhyme had lacked for Tipperar Or had his tastes been literary, He might have found extemporary Without the aid of dictionary, Some fitting rhyme for Tipperary. Or had he seen an antiquary, Burnt midnight oil in his library, A JVhimsey Anthology Or been of temper less "camstary," Rhymes had not lacked for Tipperary. He paced about his aviary, Blew up, sky-high, his secretary, And then in wrath and anger sware he, There was no rhyme for Tipperary. Dr. Fitzgerald. THE DONERAILE LITANY A LAS! how dismal is my tale! I lost my watch in Doneraile; My Dublin watch, my chain and seal,] Pilfered at once in Doneraile. May fire and brimstone never fail To fall in showers on Doneraile; May all the leading fiends assail The thieving town of Doneraile. As lightnings flash across the vale, So down to hell with Doneraile; The fate of Pompey at Pharsale, Be that the curse of Doneraile. May beef or mutton, lamb or veal, Be never found in Doneraile; But garlic-soup and scurvy kail Be still the food for Doneraile. [ 132] M on or hy m e s And forward as the creeping snail The industry be of Doneraile; May Heaven a chosen curse entail On rigid, rotten Doneraile. May sun and moon for ever fail To beam their lights in Doneraile; May every pestilential gale Blast that curst spot called Doneraile. May no sweet cuckoo, thrush, or quail, Be ever heard in Doneraile; May patriots, kings, and commonweal, Despise and harass Doneraile. May every Post, Gazette, and Mail, Sad tidings bring of Doneraile; May loudest thunders ring a peal To blind and deafen Doneraile. May vengeance fall at head and tail, From north to south, at Doneraile; May profit light, and tardy sale, Still damp the trade of Doneraile. May Fame resound a dismal tale, Whene'er she lights on Doneraile; May Egypt's plagues at once prevail, To thin the knaves of Doneraile. May frost and snow, and sleet and hail, Benumb each joint in Doneraile; [133] A Whimsey Anthology May wolves and bloodhounds trace and trail The cursed crew of Doneraile. May Oscar, with his fiery flail, To atoms thresh all Doneraile; May every mischief, fresh and stale, Abide henceforth in Doneraile. May all, from Belfast to Kinsale, Scoff, curse, and damn you, Doneraile; May neither flour nor oatenmeal Be found or known in Doneraile. May want and woe each joy curtail That e'er was known in Doneraile; May no one coffin want a nail That wraps a rogue in Doneraile. May all the thieves that rob and steal The gallows meet in Doneraile; May all the sons of Granaweal Blush at the thieves of Doneraile. May mischief, big as Norway whale, O'erwhelm the knaves of Doneraile; May curses, wholesale and retail, Pour with full force on Doneraile. May every transport wont to sail, A convict bring from Doneraile; May every churn and milking-pail Fall dry to staves in Doneraile. [134] M on or hy m e s May cold and hunger still congeal The stagnant blood of Doneraile; May every hour new woes reveal That hell reserves for Doneraile. May every chosen ill prevail O'er all the imps of Doneraile; May no one wish or prayer avail To soothe the woes of Doneraile. May the Inquisition straight impale The rapparees of Doneraile; May Charon's boat triumphant sail, Completely manned, from Doneraile. Oh, may my couplets never fail To find a curse for Doneraile; And may grim Pluto's inner jail For ever groan with Doneraile. Patrick O'Ktlly. A MY MANX MINX LL the Bard's rhymes, and all his inks, Will scarce pourtray the Proteus MINX: Nor artist brush with brightest tincts Of Fancy's rainbow picture MINX. The child of Man and beast: a sphinx Of noble rearing: that is MINX. [135] A W him s ey A nt h olo gy With paw of leopard, eye of lynx, And spring of tiger, such is MINX. She's playful, harmless: Mousie thinks: But dreadful earnest's artful MINX. Seems nonchalante, and bobs, and blinks: Ma foi, toute autre chose is MINX. Formitat Homer oft: her winks Are rare: no "nid-nid-niddin" MINX. Aye "takkin notes" of holes and chinks: A slee and pawky body's MINX. An Abbess of Misrule: she slinks From no malfeasance: wilful MINX. (Law:) Ne quid nim, of neighbour's trinks: She's always nimming: roguish MINX. With reels of silk, thread, wool, plays rinks: Tossing and tangling: tricksy MINX. Loves, frisks, curvets, and highest jinks: Frolic's own daughter, merry MINX. As high-born dame in idlesse sinks, So idleth fa-niente MINX. A pert, coquettish, flirting finks: Has fifty beaux at once: vain MINX. [136] Monorhymes Simplex munditiis, all sminks And smears of sluthood shun spruce MINX. Soprani trill their tink-a-tinks: My prima-cat-atrice's MINX. Horns blare, drums beat, and cymbal clinks: No mewsic equals mews of MINX. His richest creams, nectareous drinks, Her master sets aside for MINX. From human cares and snares he shrinks, To spend serener hours with MINX. The Dean's rare taste in his precincts Pets wild ducks: I pet wilder MINX. Of the Cat world the pink of pinks Is tailless, peerless, schonste MINX. 9 Es aii twinned, the Bard enlinks The names for ever: OTHO, MINX. Orlando Thomas Dobbin. FIVE WINES BRISK methinks I am, and fine When I drink my cap'ring wine; Then to love I do incline, When I drink my wanton wine; [137] A W him s ey Ant hoi o gy And I wish all maidens mine, When I drink my sprightly wine; Well I sup and well I dine, When I drink my frolic wine; But I languish, lower, and pine, When I want my fragrant wine. Robert Herrick LINES ON ROSE* (Written by One Who Was Restricted as to Terminals) "A I. ON HER DOMESTICITY S pants the heart that is the roe's/' So sings sweet Rosalie a lied; Or in her pretty garden hoes, Or pipes soft music on a reed. II. ON HER VANITY She trips across the lawn, fair Rose, Eyes follow where her footsteps lead, And catch a glimpse of scarlet hose, (She knows that he who runs may read). * By permission of Harper & Brothers. [138] Af o nor hy m e s III. ON HER ADAPTABILITY To heaven's heights, the fierce flames rose, Stone, iron, melted, just like lead; Right hard they worked with pump and hose, All night by flames her book she read. IV. ON HER FEMININITY She planted peas, but not in rows, Just where her errant fancy led; I laughed at her with loud "ho, ho's" Until she blushed a rosy red. Charles Battell Loomis. [ 139] INTERIOR RHMYES BOWLED WHEN I, sir, play at cricket, sick it makes me feel; For I the wicket kick it backward with my heel. Then, oh! such rollers bowlers always give to me, And the rounders, grounders, too, rise and strike my knee; When I in anguish languish, try to force a smile, While laughing critics round me sound me on my style. Anonymous. A NOCTURNAL SKETCH EVEN is come; and from the dark Park, hark, The signal of the setting sun one gun! And six is sounding from the chime, prime time To go and see the Drury-Lane Dane slain, Or hear Othello's jealous doubt spout out, Or Macbeth raving at that shade-made blade, [ I 4 0] Interior Rhymes Denying to his frantic clutch much touch; Or else to see Ducrow with wide stride ride Four horses as no other man can span; Or in the small Olympic Pit, sit split Laughing at Liston, while you quiz his phiz. Anon Night comes, and with her wings brings things Such as, with his poetic tongue, Young sung; The gas up-blazes with its bright white light, And paralytic watchmen prowl, howl, growl, About the streets and take up Pall-Mail Sal, Who, hasting to her nightly jobs, robs fobs. Now thieves to enter for your cash, smash, crash > Past drowsy Charley, in a deep sleep, creep, But frightened by Policeman B 3, flee, And while they're going, whisper low, "No go!" Now puss, while folks are in their beds, treads leads. And sleepers waking, grumble "Drat that cat!" Who in the gutter caterwauls, squalls, mauls Some feline foe, and screams in shrill ill-will. Now Bulls of Bashan, of a prize size, rise In childish dreams, and with a roar gore poor Georgy, or Charley, or Billy, willy-nilly; But Nursemaid, in a nightmare rest, chest-pressed, Dreameth of one of her old flames, James Games, And that she hears what faith is man's! Ann's banns And his, from Reverend Mr. Rice, twice, thrice: White ribbons flourish, and a stout shout out, That upward goes, shows Rose knows those bows' Thomas Hood. [141] A Whimsey Anthology THE DOUBLE KNOCK (Initial Rhymes) RAT-TAT it went upon the lion's chin; "That hat, I know it!" cried the joyful girl; "Summer's it is, I know him by his knock; Comers like him are welcome as the day! Lizzy! go down and open the street-door; Busy I am to any one but him. Know him you must he has been often here; Show him upstairs, and tell him I'm alone." Quickly the maid went tripping down the stair; Thickly the heart of Rose Matilda beat; "Sure he has brought me tickets for the play Drury or Covent Garden darling man! Kemble will play or Kean, who makes the soul Tremble in Richard or the frenzied Moor Farren, the stay and prop of many a farce Barren beside or Liston, Laughter's Child Kelly the natural, to witness whom Jelly is nothing to the public's jam Cooper, the sensible and Walter Knowles Super, in William Tell, now rightly told. Better perchance, from Andrews, brings a box, Letter of boxes for the Italian stage Brocard! Donzelli! Taglioni! Paul! No card, thank Heaven engages me to-night! Feathers, of course no turban, and no toque Weather's against it, but I'll go in curls. [142] Interior Rhymes Dearly I dote on white my satin dress, Merely one night it won't be much the worse Cupid the new ballet I long to see Stupid! why don't she go and ope the door!" Glistened her eye as the impatient girl Listened, low bending o'er the topmost stair, Vainly, alas! she listens and she bends, Plainly she hears this question and reply: "Axes your pardon, sir, but what d'ye want?" "Taxes," says he, "and shall not call again!" Thomas Hood. THE FUTURE OF THE CLASSICS NO longer, O scholars, shall Plautus Be taught us. No more shall professors be partial To Martial. No ninny Will stop playing "shinney" For Pliny. Not even the veriest Mexican Greaser Will stop to read Caesar. No true son of Erin will leave his potato To list to the love-lore of Ovid or Plato. Old Homer, That hapless old roamer, Will ne'er find a rest 'neath collegiate dome or Anywhere else. As to Seneca, [143] A Whimsey Anthology Any cur Safely may snub him, or urge ill Effects from the reading of Virgil. Cornelius Nepos Wont keep us Much longer from pleasure's light errands Nor Terence. The irreverent now may all scoff in ease At the shade of poor old Aristophanes. And moderns it now doth behoove in all Ways to despise poor old Juvenal; And to chivvy Livy. The class-room hereafter will miss a row Of eager young students of Cicero. The 'longshoreman yes, and the dock-rat, he's Down upon Socrates. And what'll Induce us to read Aristotle? We shall fail in Our duty to Galen. No tutor henceforward shall rack us To construe old Horatius Flaccus. We have but a wretched opinion Of Mr. Justinian. In our classical pabulum mix we've no wee sop Of jEsop. Our balance of intellect asks for no ballast From Sallust. With feminine scorn no fair Vassar-bred lass at us Shall smile if we own that we cannot read Tacitus. Interior Rhymes No admirer shall ever now wreathe with begonias The bust of Suetonius. And so, if you follow me, We'll have to cut Ptolemy. Besides, it would just be considered facetious To look at Lucretius. And you can Not go in Society if you read Lucan, And we cannot have any fun Out of Xenophon. Anonymous. I JOCOSA LYRA N our hearts is the Great One of Avon Engraven, And we climb the cold summits once built on By Milton. But at times not the air that is rarest Is fairest, And we long in the valley to follow Apollo. Then we drop from the heights atmospheric To Herrick, Or we pour the Greek honey, grown blander, Of Landor; Or our cosiest nook in the shade is Where Praed is, A Whimsey Anthology Or we toss the light bells of the mocker With Locker. Oh, the song where not one of the Graces Tight-laces, Where we woo the sweet Muses not starchly, But archly, Where the verse, like a piper a-Maying, Comes playing, And the rhyme is as gay as a dancer In answer, It will last till men weary of pleasure In measure! It will last till men weary of laughter . . . And after! Austin Dobson. A TRIP TO PARIS WHEN a man travels he mustn't look queer If he gets a few rubs that he doesn't get here; And if he to Paris from Calais will stray, I will tell him some things he will meet on his way. Dover heights men like mites skiffery, cliffery, Shakespeare. Can't touch prog sick as a dog packet 'em, racket 'em, makes pier. Interior Rhymes Calais clerks custom-house sharks lurchery, searchery, fee! fee! On the pave cabriolet clattery, pattery, oui! oui! Abbeville off goes a wheel hammery, dammery, tut! tut! Montreuil look like a fool latery, gatery, shut! shut! Laughing, quaffing, snoozing, boozing, cantering, bantering, gad about, mad about When a man travels, etc. Ding dong postboy's thong smackery, crack- ery, gar! gar! Soups, ragouts messes and stews hashery, trash- ery, psha! psha! Beggar's woes donnes quelque chose howlery, growlery, sou! sou! Crawl like a calf post and a half sluggery, tug- gery, pooh! pooh! Saint-Denis custom-house fee lacery, tracery, non, non! Silver-tip ginger on lip feeing 'em, freeing 'em, bon, bon! Laughing, quaffing, etc. When a man travels, and gets by good luck To Paris, he stares like a pig that is stuck; And, if he's in want of a Guide de Paris, He'd better be quiet and listen to me. Montague Russe down like a sluice whizzery, dizzery, see-saw! Catacombs ghosts and gnomes bonery, groan- ery, fee faw! [147] A Whimsey Anthology Mille Colonnes queen on her throne flattery, chattery, charmant! Who's to pay? Beauvilliers suttle 'em, guttle 'em, gourmand! Saint-Cloud fete of St.-Leu bower 'em, shower 'em, jet d'eau. Bastille water-work wheel Elephant, elephant, wet oh! Laughing, quaffing, etc. Sol fa Tanta-ra-ra! Shriekery, squeakery, strum, strum, Louis d'or couldn't get more packery, backery, glum, glum! Call for a bill worse than a pill largery, charg- ery, oh! oh! Diligence lessens expense waggon 'em, drag- gin' 'em, slow, slow! Quillacq glad to get back floodery, scuddery, sick, sick! Now we steer right for the pier over 'em, Dover 'em, quick, quick! Laughing, quaffing, snoozing, boozing, cantering, bantering, gad about, mad about When a man travels he mustn't look queer If he gets a few rubs that he doesn't get here; And if he from Calais to Paris would stray, I've told him the things he will meet on his way. "James Smith. [148] Interior Rhymes A FERRY TALE* OCOME and cross over to nowhere, And go where The nobodies live on their nothing a day! A tideful of tricks in this merry Old Ferry, And these are things that it does by the way: It pours into parks and disperses The nurses; It goes into gardens and scatters the cats; It leaks into lodgings, disorders The borders, And washes away with their holiday hats. It soaks into shops, and inspires The buyers To crawl over counters and climb upon chairs; It trickles on tailors, it spatters On hatters, And makes little milliners scamper up-stairs. It goes out of town and it rambles Through brambles; It wallows in hollows and dives into dells; It flows into farmyards and sickens The chickens, And washes the wheelbarrows into the wells. * By permission of the Century Company. A Whimsey Anthology It turns into taverns and drenches The benches; It jumps into pumps and comes out with a roar; It sounds like a postman at lodges Then dodges And runs up the lane when they open the door. It leaks into laundries and wrangles With mangles; It trips over turnips and tumbles down-hill; It rolls like a coach along highways And byways, But never gets anywhere, go as it will! Oh, foolish old Ferry! all muddles And puddles Go fribble and dribble along on your way; We drink to your health with molasses In glasses, And waft you farewell with a handful of hay! Charles E. CarryL SONG FOR A CRACKED VOICE WHEN I was young and slender, a spender, a lender, What gentleman adventurer was prankier than I, Who lustier at passes with glasses and lasses, How pleasant was the look of 'em as I came jaunting by! Interior Rhymes (But now there's none to sigh at me as I come creaking by.) Then Pegasus went loping 'twixt hoping and toping, A song in every dicky-bird, a scent in every rose; What moons for lovelorn glances, romances, and dances, And how the spirit of the waltz went thrilling to my toes! (Egad, it's now a gouty pang goes thrilling to my toes!) Was I that lover frantic, romantic, and antic Who found the lute in Molly's voice, the heaven in her eyes, Who, madder than a hatter, talked patter? No matter. Call not that little, youthful ghost, but leave it where it lies! (Dear, dear, how many winter snows have drifted where she lies!) But now I'm old and humble, why mumble and grumble At all the posy-linked rout that hurries laughing by? Framed in my gold-rimmed glasses each lass is who passes, And Youth is still a-twinkling in the corner of my eye. (How strange you cannot see it in the corner of my eye!) Wallace Irwin. [151] BLANK VERSE IN PROSE* DEATH OF LITTLE NELL AND now the bell the bell She had so often heard by night and day And listened to with solemn pleasure, E'en as a living voice Rang its remorseless toll for her, So young, so beautiful, so good. Decrepit age, and vigorous life, And blooming youth, and helpless infancy, Poured forth on crutches, in the pride of strength And health, in the full blush Of promise the mere dawn of life To gather round her tomb. Old men were there Whose eyes were dim And senses failing Granddames, who might have died ten years ago, And still been old the deaf, the blind, the lame, The palsied, The living dead in many shapes and forms, To see the closing of this early grave! What was the death it would shut in, To that which still would crawl and creep above it! * These specimens of rhythmical prose are copied verbatim from the books in which they appear. [152] Blank Verse in Prose Along the crowded path they bore her now; Pure as the new fallen snow That covered it; whose day on earth Had been as fleeting. Under that porch where she had sat when Heaven In mercy brought her to that peaceful spot, She passed again, and the old church Received her in its quiet shade. Oh! it is hard to take The lesson that such deaths will teach, But let no man reject ir, For it is one that all must learn And is a mighty universal Truth. When Death strikes down the innocent and young, From every fragile form from which he lets The panting spirit free, A hundred virtues rise, In shapes of mercy, charity, and love, To walk the world and bless it. Of every tear That sorrowing mortals shed on such green graves, Some good is born, some gentler nature comes. Charles Dickens (in "Old Curiosity Shop"). [153] A Whimsey Anthology SONG OF THE KETTLE IT'S a dark night, sang the kettle, and the rotten leaves are lying by the way; And above, all is mist and darkness, and below, all is mire and clay; And there is only one relief in all the sad and murky air, And I don't know that it is one, for it's nothing but a glare Of deep and angry crimson, where the sun and wind together Set a brand upon the clouds for being guilty of such weather; And the widest open country is a long dull streak of black; And there's hoarfrost on the finger-post, and thaw upon the track; And the ice it isn't water, and the water isn't free And you couldn't say that anything was what ought to be; But he's coming, coming, coming! Charles Dickens (in " The Cricket on the Hearth ") [154] FIXED FORMS I VILLANELLE T'S all a trick, quite easy when you know it As easy as reciting A, B, C. You need not be an atom of a poet. If you've a grain of wit and want to show it, Writing a Villanelle take this from me It's all a trick, quite easy when you know it. You start a pair of "rimes" and then you "go it," With rapid running pen and fancy free, You need not be an atom of a poet. Take any thought, write round it or below it, Above or near it, as it liketh thee; It's all a trick, quite easy when you know it. Pursue your task, till, like a shrub, you grow it, Up to the standard size it ought to be; You need not be an atom of a poet. Clear it of weeds, and water it, and hoe it, Then watch it blossom with triumphant glee, It's all a trick, quite easy when you know it. You need not be an atom of a poet. Walter W. Sleat. [155] A Whimsey Anthology THE RONDEAU YOU bid me try, Blue-eyes, to write A Rondeau. What! forthwith? to-night? Reflect? Some skill I have, 'tis true; But thirteen lines! and rhymed on two! "Refrain," as well. Ah, hapless plight! Still there are five lines ranged aright. These Gallic bonds, I feared, would fright My easy Muse. They did, till you You bid me try! That makes them eight. The port's in sight; 'Tis all because your eyes are bright! Now just a pair to end in "oo," When maids command, what can't we do? Behold! The Rondeau tasteful, light You bid me try! Austin Dobson. THE ROUNDEL \ ROUNDEL is wrought as a ring or a star-; bright sphere. With craft of delight and with cunning of sound unsought, That the heart of the hearer may smile if to pleasure his ear A roundel is wrought. [ 156] Fixed Forms Its jewel of music is carven of all or of aught Love, laughter, or mourning remembrance of rap- ture or fear That fancy may fashion to hang in the ear of thought. As a bird's quick song runs round, and the hearts in us hear Pause answer to pause, and again the same strain caught, So moves the device whence, round as a pearl or tear, A roundel is wrought. A. C. Swinburne. VILLANELLE OF THINGS AMUSING are the things that make me laugh Life's a preposterous farce, say I! And I've missed of too many jokes by half. The high-heeled antics of colt and calf, The men who think they can act, and try These are the things that make me laugh. The hard-boiled poses in photograph, The groom still wearing his wedding tie And I've missed of too many jokes by half! These are the bubbles I gayly quaff With the rank conceit of the new-born fly These are the things that make me laugh! [157] A Whimsey Anthology For, Heaven help me! I needs must chaff, And people will tickle me till I die And I've missed of too many jokes, by half! So write me down in my epitaph As one too fond of his health to cry These are the things that make me laugh, And I've missed of too many jokes by half! Gelett Burgess TEMA CON VARIAZIONI* NEVER loved a dear gazelle Nor anything that cost me much: High prices profit those who sell, But why should I be fond of such ? To glad me with bis soft black eye My son comes trotting home from school: He's had a fight, but can't tell why- He always was a little fool ! But, when be came to know me well, He kicked me out, her testy Sire; And when I stained my hair, that Belle Might note the change, and thus admire * By permission of the Macmillan Company. [158] Fixed Forms And love me, it was sure to dye A muddy green or staring blue: While one might trace, with half an eye, The still-triumphant carrot through. Lewis Carroll. THE TRIOLET EASY is the triolet, If you really learn to make it! Once a neat refrain you get, Easy is the triolet. As you see! I pay my debt With another rhyme. Deuce take it, Easy is the triolet, If you really learn to make it! W. E. Henley. TRIOLET I LOVE you, my lord!" Was all that she said What a dissonant chord, "I love you, my lord!" Ah! how I abhorred That sarcastic maid! "/ love you? My Lord!" Was all that she said. Paul T. Gilbert. [159] A Whimsey Anthology A PITCHER OF MIGNONETTE (Triolet) A PITCHER of mignonette, In a tenement's highest casement: Queer sort of flower-pot yet That pitcher of mignonette Is a garden in heaven set, To the little sick child in the basement The pitcher of mignonette, In the tenement's highest casement. H. C. Bunner THE TRIOLET I INTENDED an Ode, And it turned into Triolets. It began a la mode: I intended an Ode, But Rose crossed the road With a bunch of fresh violets. I intended an Ode, And it turned into Triolets. I intended an Ode, And it turned out a Sonnet, It began a la mode, I intended an Ode; [160] Fixed Forms But Rose crossed the road In her latest new bonnet. I intended an Ode, And it turned out a Sonnet. Austin Dobson. BALLADE I OFTEN does a quiet read At Booty Shelly 's poetry; I think that Swinburne at a screed Is really almost too-too fly; At Signor Vagna's harmony I likes a merry little flutter; I've had at Pater many a shy; In fact my form's the Bloomin' Utter. My mark's a tiny little feed, And Enery Irving's gallery, To see old 'Amlick do a bleed, And Ellen Terry on the die, Or Franky's ghostes at hi-spy, And parties carried on a shutter. Them vulgar Coupeaus is my eye! In fact my form's the Bloomin' Utter. The Grosvenor's nuts it is, indeed! I goes for 'Olman 'Unt like pie. It's equal to a friendly lead To see B. Jones's judes go by. [161] A Whimsey Anthology Stanhope he makes me fit to cry, Whistler he makes me melt like butter, Strudwick he makes me flash my cly, In fact my form's the Bloomin' Utter. Envoy. I'm on for any Art that's 'Igh; I talks as quite as I can splutter; I keeps a Dado on the sly; In fact my form's the Bloomin' Utter! W. E. Henley. VILLANELLE N OW ain't they utterly too-too (She ses, my Missus mine, ses she) Them flymy little bits of Blue. Joe, just you kool 'em nice and skew Upon our old meogginee, Now ain't they utterly too-too? They're better than a pot'n' a screw, They're equal to a Sunday spree, Them flymy little bits of Blue! Suppose I put 'em up the flue, And booze the profits, Joe? Not me. Now ain't they utterly too-too ? [162] Fixed Forms I do the 'Igh Art fake, I do. Joe, I'm consummate; and I see Them flymy little bits of Blue. Which, Joe, is why I ses to you ^Esthetic-like, and limp, and free Now aint they utterly too-too, Them flymy little bits of Blue ? W. E. Henley. A RONDELAY MAN is for woman made, And woman made for man: As the spur is for the jade, As the scabbard for the blade, As for liquor is the can, So man's for woman made, And woman made for man. As the sceptre to be sway'd, As to night the serenade, As for pudding is the pan, As to cool us is the fan, So man's for woman made, And woman made for man. Be she widow, wife, or maid, Be she wanton, be she staid, Be she well or ill array'd, So man's for woman made, And woman made for man. Peter A. Motteux. A Whimsey Anthology SONNET TO ORDER A SONNET would you have ? Know you, myi pet, For sonnets fourteen lines are necessary. Ah, necessary rhymes, by luck to fairy I'll call you one, and the first quatrain get. This meets half-way the second; half-way met. One meets an obstacle in a manner airy. But here, though it is not your name, as Mary Til set you down, settling the second set. Now, you'll admit, a sonnet without love, Without the savour of a woman in't, Were profanation of poetic art. Love, above all things! So 'tis writ above. Nor there alone. Your sonneteer, I'd hint, Gives you this sonnet here with all his heart. Henry Cuyler Bunner. SONNET ON THE SONNET T write a sonnet doth my Julia press me; I've never found me in such stress or pain; A sonnet numbers fourteen lines, 'tis plain, And three are gone ere I can say, God bless me! I thought that spinning lines would sore oppress me, Yet here I'm midway in the last quatrain: And if the foremost tercet I begin, The quatrains need not any more distress me. Fixed Forms "o the first tercet I have got at last, And travel through it with such right good will, "hat with this line I've finished it, I ween: *m in the second now, and see how fast The thirteenth line comes tripping from my quill: -lurrah! 'tis done! Count if there be fourteen. James T. Gibson. SONNET TO A CLAM (Dum tacent claimant) TNGLORIOUS friend! most confident I am ( Thy life is one of very little ease; Albeit men mock thee with their similes \iul prate of being "happy as a clam!" vVhat though thy shell protects thy fragile head From the sharp bailiffs of the briny sea ? Thy valves are, sure, no safety-valves to thee, While rakes are free to desecrate thy bed, \nd bear thee off" as foemen take their spoil Far from thy friends and family to roam; Forced, like a Hessian, from thy native home, To meet destruction in a foreign broil! Though thou art tender yet thy humble bard Declares, O clam! thy case is shocking hard! John G. Saxe. [165] A Whimsey Anthology RONDEAU JENNY kissed me when we met, Jumping from the chair she sat in; Time, you thief, who love to get Sweets into your list, put that in; Say I'm weary, say I'm sad, Say that health and wealth have missed me, Say I'm growing old, but add, Jenny kissed me! Leigh Hunt. REMEMBER REMEMBER it, although you're far away Too far away more fivers yet to land, When you no more can proffer notes of hand, Nor I half yearn to change my yea to nay. Remember, when no more in airy way, You tell me of repayment sagely planned: Only remember it, you understand! It's rather late to counsel you to pay; Yet if you should remember for a while, And then forget it wholly, I should grieve; For, though your light procrastinations leave Small remnants of the hope that once I had, Than that you should forget your debt and smile, I'd rather you'd remember and be sad. Judy. [166] Fixed Forms THE WAIL OF THE "PERSONALLY CONDUCTED" (Chorus beard on the deck of a Saguenay steamboat) SAPPHICS TNTEGRAL were we, in our old existence; Separate beings, individually: Now are our entities blended, fused, and foun- dered We are one person. We are not mortals, we are not celestials, We are not birds, the upper ether cleaving, We are a retrogression toward the monad: We are Cook's Tourists. All ways we follow him who holds the guide-book All things we look at, with bedazzled optics; Sad are our hearts, because the vulgar rabble Call us the Cookies. Happy the man who, by his cheerful fireside, Says to the partner of his joys and sorrows: 'Anna Maria, let us go to-morrow Out for an airing." Him to Manhattan, or the Beach of Brighton, Gayly he hieth, or if, fate-accursed, Lives he in Boston, still he may betake him Down to Nantasket. [167] A Whimsey Anthology Happy the mortal free and independent, Master of the mainspring of his own volition! Look on us with the eye of sweet compassion: We are Cook's Tourists. H. C. Bunner. l-i/V" "*J (X*vu r [168] CHAIN VERSE OUT OF SIGHT, OUT OF MIND r I A HE oft'ner seen, the more I lust, The more I lust, the more I smart, The more I smart, the more I trust, The more I trust, the heavier heart, The heavy heart breeds mine unrest, Thy absence therefore I like best. The rarer seen, the less in mind, The less in mind, the lesser pain, The lesser pain, less grief I find, The lesser grief, the greater gain, The greater gain, the merrier I, Therefore I wish thy sight to fly. The further off, the more I joy, The more I joy, the happier life, The happier life, less hurts annoy, The lesser hurts, pleasure most rife, Such pleasures rife shall I obtain When distance doth depart us twain. Barnaby Googe. [169] A Whimsey Anthology AD MORTEM r I A HE longer life, the more oflFence; The more offence, the greater pain; The greater pain the less defence; The less defence, the greater gain Wherefore, come death, and let me die! The shorter life, less care I find, Less care I take, the sooner over; The sooner o'er, the merrier mind; The merrier mind, the better lover Wherefore, come death, and let me die! Come, gentle death, the ebb of care; The ebb of care, the flood of life; The flood of life, I'm sooner there; I'm sooner there the end of strife The end of strife, that thing wish I Wherefore, come death, and let me die! Anonymous. NERVE THY SOUL NERVE thy soul with doctrines noble, Noble in the walks of time, Time that leads to an eternal, An eternal life sublime: Life sublime in moral beauty, Beauty that shall ever be; Chain Verse Ever be to lure thee onward, Onward to the fountain free: Free to every earnest seeker, Seeker for the fount of youth, Youth exultant in its beauty, Beauty of the living truth. Anonymous. [171] CENTONES OR MOSAIC WHIMSEYS LIFE* 1. Why all this toil for triumphs of an hour? 2. Life's a short summer, man a flower. 3. By turns we catch the vital breath and die 4. The cradle and the tomb, alas! so nigh. 5. To be, is better far than not to be. 6. Though all man's life may seem a tragedy; 7. But light cares speak when mighty griefs are dumb, 8. The bottom is but shallow whence they come. 9. Your fate is but the common lot of all: 10. Unmingled joys here to no man befall, 11. Nature to each allots his proper sphere; 12. Fortune makes folly her peculiar care; 13. Custom does often reason overrule, 14. And throw a cruel sunshine on a fool. * I. Young; 2. Dr. Johnson ; 3. Pope; 4. Prior; 5. Sewell ; 6. Spenser; 7. Daniell ; 8. Sir Walter Raleigh; 9. Longfellow; IO. Southwell; n. Congreve ; 12. Churchill; 13. Rochester; 14. Armstrong; 15. Milton; 16. Bailey; 17. Trench; 18. Somer- ville ; 19. Thomson; 20. Byron; 21. Smollett; 22. Crabbe ; 23. Massinger ; 24. Cowley ; 25. Beattie ; 26. Cowper ; 27. Sir Wal- ter Davenant ; 28. Gray; 29. Willis; 30. Addison ; 31. Dryden ; 32. Francis Quarles ; 33. Watkins ; 34. Herrick ; 35. William Mason; 36. Hill; 37. Dana; 38. Shakespeare. [ 172] C en tones 15. Live well; how long or short, permit to Heaven; 1 6. They who forgive us most, shall be most for- given. 17. Sin may be clasped so close we cannot see its face 1 8. Vile intercourse where virtue has no place. 19. Then keep each passion down, however dear; 20. Thou pendulum betwixt a smile and tear. 21. Her sensual snares, let faithless pleasure lay, 22. With craft and skill, to ruin and betray; 23. Soar not too high to fall, but stoop to rise. 24. We masters grow of all that we despise. 25. Oh, then, I renounce that impious self-esteem; 26. Riches have wings, and grandeur is a dream. 27. Think not ambition wise because 'tis brave, 28. The paths of glory lead but to the grave. 29. What is ambition? 'tis a glorious cheat! 30. Only destructive to the brave and great. 31. What's all the gaudy glitter of a crown ? 32. The way to bliss lies not on beds of down. 33. How long we live, not years but actions tell; 34. That man lives twice who lives the first life well. 35. Make, then, while yet we may, your God your friend, 36. Whom Christians worship yet not comprehend. 37. The trust that's given guard, and to yourself be just; 38. For, live we how we can, yet die we must. Anonymous. [173] A Whimsey Anthology MY GENEVIEVE* 1. I only knew she came and went, 2. Like troutlets in a pool; 3. She was a phantom of delight, 4. And I was like a fool. 5. "One kiss, dear maid," I said, and sighed, 6. Out of those lips unshorn. 7. She shook her ringlets round her head 8. And laughed in merry scorn. 9. Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, 10. You heard them, O my heart; 11. 'Tis twelve at night by the castle clock, 12. Beloved we must part. 13. "Come back, come back!" she cried in grief, 14. My eyes are dim with tears 15. How shall I live through all the days? 1 6. All through a hundred years? 17. 'Twas in the prime of summer-time, 1 8. She blessed me with her hand; * i. Powell; 2. Hood; 3. Wordsworth; 4. Eastman; 5. Cole- ridge; 6. Longfellow; 7. Stoddard ; 8. Tennyson; 9. Tennyson; 10. Alice Gary; n. Coleridge; 12. Alice Gary; 13. Campbell; 14. Bayard Taylor ; 15. Osgood ; 16. T. S. Perry; 17. Hood; 1 8. Hoyt ; 19. Edwards; 20. Cornwall; 21. Patmore ; 22. Bayard Taylor; 23. Tennyson; 24. Read; 25. Browning; 26. Smith; 27. Coleridge; 28. Wordsworth; 29. Coleridge; 30. Hervey ; 31 Wordsworth ; 32. Osgood. [i74] C en tones 19. We strayed together, deeply blest, 20. Into the dreaming land. 21. The laughing bridal roses blow, 22. To dress her dark brown hair; 23. My heart is breaking with my woe, 24. Most beautiful! most rare! 25. I clasped it on her sweet, cold hand, 26. The precious golden link! 27. I calmed her fears, and she was calm, 28. "Drink, pretty creature, drink!" 29. And so I won my Genevieve, 30. And walked in Paradise; 31. The fairest thing that ever grew 22. Atween me and the skies! * A nonymous. THE FATE OF THE GLORIOUS DEVIL* GLORIOUS devil, large in heart and brain, Doomed for a certain term to walk the night, The world forsaking with a calm disdain, Majestic rises on th' astonished sight. .. Tennyson; 2. Shakespeare; 3. Thomson; 4. Take; 5. Wordsworth ; 6. Pope ; 7. Graham ; 8. Cowper ; 9. Beattie ; 10. Rogers; n. Hemans; 12. Collins; 13. Longfellow; 14. Prior; 15. Beattie; 16. Burns; 17. Wordsworth; 18. Hemans; 19; Crabbe ; 20. Chaucer; 21. Collins; 22. Beattie; 23. Gray; 24. Campbell; 25. Bloomfield; 26. Goldsmith; 27. Rogers; 28. Burns; 29. Bloomfield; 30. Byron; 31. Falconer; 32. Thomson; 33. jjoanna Baillie ; 34. Byron ; 35. Shelley; 36. Euripides ; 37. Beattie; 38. Hemans; 39. Shakespeare; 40. H. Smith. [i75] A Whimsey Anthology Type of the wise who soar, but never roam, Mark how it mounts to man's imperial race! High is his perch, but humble is his home, Fast anchored in the deep abyss of space. And oft the craggy cliff he loved to climb, Where Punch and Scaramouch aloft are seen, Where Science mounts in radiant car sublime, And twilight fairies tread the circled green. And, borne aloft by the sustaining blast, Whom no man fully sees, and none can see, 'Wildered and weary, sits him down at last, Beneath the shelter of an aged tree. I will not stop to tell how far he fled, To view the smile of evening on the sea; He tried to smile, and, half succeeding, said, "I smell a loller in the wind," said he. "What if the lion in his rage I meet?" (The Muse interprets thus his tender thought.) The scourge of Heaven! what terrors round him wait! From planet whirled to planet more remote. Thence higher still, by countless steps conveyed, ;? Remote from towns he ran his godly race; He lectured every youth that round him played The jostling tears ran down his honest face. [176] * C ent one s \nother spring!" his heart exulting cries. Vain are his weapons, vainer is his force; milk-white lion of tremendous size Lays him along the snows a stiffened corse. {The haycock rises, and the frequent rake Looks on the bleeding foe that made him bleed; iAnd the green lizard and the golden snake Pause at the bold irrevocable deed. Will ye one transient ray of gladness dart, To bid the genial tear of pity flow ? By Heaven! I would rather coin my heart, Or Mr. Miller's, commonly called Joe! Anonymous. L ECHOES * ADY Clara Vere de Vere Was eight years old she said: Every ringlet, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden thread. She took her little porringer: Of me she shall not win renown: "or the baseness of its nature shall have strength to drag her down. "Sisters and brothers, little Maid? There stands the Inspector at thy door: e a dog, he hunts for boys who know not two and two are four." * By permission of the Macmillan Company. [177] A Whimsey Anthology "Kind words are more than coronets," She said, and wondering looked at me: 'It is the dead unhappy night, and I must hurry home to tea." Lewis Carroll. WHATEVER IS, IS RIGHT T IVES there a man with soul so dead Who never to himself has said, "Shoot folly as it flies"? Oh! more than tears of blood can tell, Are in that word, farewell, farewell! 'Tis folly to be wise. And what is friendship but a name, That boils on Etna's breast of flame? Thus runs the world away. Sweet is the ship that's under sail To where yon taper cheers the vale, With hospitable ray! Drink to me only with thine eyes Through cloudless climes and starry skies! My native land, good night! Adieu, adieu, my native shore; 'Tis Greece, but living Greece no more Whatever is, is right! Laman BlancharJ,' [178] JESUITICAL VERSES THE DOUBLE-FACED CREED (Read down or across) hold for sound faith What England's church allows, 'hat Rome's faith saith My conscience disavows, ff here the king's head The flock can take no shame he flock's misled Who hold the Pope supreme. fhere the altar's dressed The worship's scarce divine Ipe people's blessed, Whose table's bread and wine, He's but an ass Who their communion flies [ho shuns the mass Is catholic and wise. Anonymous. EQUIVOCAL VERSES (Read down or across) I love with all my heart The Tory party here oe Hanoverian part Most hateful do appear id for the Settlement I ever have denied Ijy conscience gives consent To be on James's side bst righteous in the cause To fight for such a king \ fight for George's laws Will England's ruin bring is my mind and heart In this opinion I ough none will take my part Resolve to live and die." Anonymous. A Whimsey Anthology THE PLATFORM (Read down or across) Hurrah for Secession We fight for The Confederacy We love The rebellion We glory in Separation We fight not for Reconstruction We must succeed The Union We love not We never said We want Foreign intervention We cherish The stars and bars We venerate Southern chivalry Death to Abe Lincoln Down with Law and order The old Union Is a curse The Constitution Is a league with hell Free speech Is treason A free press Will not be tolerated The negro's freedom Must be obtained At every hazard We love The negro Let the Union slide The Union as it was Is played out The old flag Is a flaunting lie The habeas corpus Is hateful JeflF Davis Isn't the Government Mob law Shall triumph. Anonymous. [180] Jesuitical Verses PANEGYRIC ON THE LADIES (Read alternate lines) ^T man must lead a happy life Who's free from matrimonial chains, Who is directed by a wife Is sure to suffer for his pains. Adam could find no solid peace When Eve was given for a mate; Until he saw a woman's face Adam was in a happy state. In all the female race appear Hypocrisy, deceit, and pride; Truth, darling of a heart sincere, In woman never did reside. What tongue is able to unfold The failings that in woman dwell? The worth in woman we behold Is almost imperceptible. Confusion take the man, I say, Who changes from his singleness, Who will not yield to woman's sway Is sure of earthly blessedness. Anonymous. [181] A Whimsey Anthology AMBIGUOUS LINES (Read with a comma after the first noun in each line) I saw a peacock ,with a fiery tail I saw a blazing, comet ^pour down hail I saw a cloud all wrapt with ivy round I saw a lofty oak creep on the ground I saw a beetle swallow up a whale I saw a foaming sea brimful of ale saw a pewter cup sixteen feet deep saw a well full of men's tears that weep saw wet eyes in flames of living fire saw a house as high as the moon and higher saw the glorious sun at deep midnight saw the man who saw this wondrous sight. I saw a pack of cards gnawing a bone I saw a dog seated on Britain's throne I saw King George shut up within a box I saw an orange driving a fat ox I saw a butcher not a twelvemonth old I saw a great-coat all of solid gold I saw two buttons telling of their dreams I saw my friends who wished I'd quit these themes. Anonymous. [182] ECHO VERSES I ECHO ASKED of Echo, t'other day (Whose words are often few and funny), What to a novice she could say Of courtship, love, and matrimony. Quoth Echo plainly, " Matter-o'-money ! " Whom should I marry? Should it be A dashing damsel, gay and pert, A pattern of inconstancy; Or selfish, mercenary flirt ? Quoth Echo, sharply, "Nary flirt!" What if, aweary of the strife That long has lured the dear deceiver, She promise to amend her life, And sin no more; can I believe her? Quoth Echo, very promptly, "Leave her!" But if some maiden with a heart On me should venture to bestow it, Pray, should I act the wiser part To take the treasure or forego it ? Quoth Echo, with decision, "Go it!" A IV him s ey Anthology But what if, seemingly afraid To bind her fate in Hymen's fetter, She vow she means to die a maid, In answer to my loving letter ? Quoth Echo, rather coolly, "Let her!" What if, in spite of her disdain, I find my heart intwined about With Cupid's dear delicious chain So closely that I can't get out? Quoth Echo, laughingly, "Get out!" But if some maid with beauty blest, As pure and fair as Heaven can make her, Will share my labor and my rest Till envious Death shall overtake her? Quoth Echo (sotto voce), "Take her!" John G. Saxe. ROYALIST LINES WHAT wantest thou, that thou art in this sad taking? Echo: A king. What made him first remove hence his residing? Siding. Did any here deny him satisfaction? Faction. Tell me wherein the strength of faction lies ? On lies. What didst thou when the king left his Parlia- ment ? Lament. Echo Verses What terms wouldst give to gain his company? Any. What wouldst thou do if here thou mightst be- hold him ? Hold him. But wouldst thou save him with thy best endeav- our ? Ever. But if he comes not, what becomes of London ? Undone. Anonymous. SONG T^CHO, tell me, while I wander O'er this fairy plain to prove him, If my shepherd still grows fonder, Ought I in return to love him? Echo: Love him, love him! If he loves, as is the fashion, Should I churlishly forsake him? Or in pity to his passion, Fondly to my bosom take him? Echo: Take him, take him! Thy advice then, I'll adhere to, Since in Cupid's chains I've led him; And with Henry shall not fear to Marry, if you answer, "Wed him!" Echo: Wed him, wed him! Addison. MACARONIC POETRY VERY FELIS-ITOUS FELIS sedit by a hole, Interne she, cum omni soul, Predere rats. Mice cucurrerunt trans the floor. In numero duo tres or more, Obliti cats. Felis saw them oculis, "I'll have them/' inquit she, "I guess, Dum ludunt." Tune ilia crepit toward the group, "Habeam" dixit, "good rat soup Pingues sunt." Mice continued all ludere, Intenti they in ludum vere, Gaudenter. Tune rushed the felis into them, Et tore them omnes limb from limb, Violenter. [186] Macaronic Poetry MORAL Mures omnes, nunc be shy, Et aurem praebe mihi Benigne: Sic hoc satis "verbum sat," Avoid a whopping Thomas cat Studiose. Green Kendnck. I ESTIVATION N candent ire the solar splendour flames; The foles, languescent, pend from arid rames; His humid front the cive, anheling, wipes, And dreams of erring on ventiferous ripes. How dulce to vive occult to mortal eyes, Dorm on the herb with none to supervise, Carp the suave berries from the crescent vine, And bibe the flow from longicaudate kine! To me, alas! no verdurous visions come, Save yon exiguous pool's conferva-scum No concave vast repeats the tender hue That laves my milk-jug with celestial blue. Me wretched! let me curr to quercine shades! Effund your albid hausts, lactiferous maids! Oh, might I vole to some umbrageous clump, Depart be off, excede, evade, crump ! Oliver Wendell Holmes. [187] A Whimsey Anthology C CE MEME VIEUX COON E meme vieux coon n'est pas quite mort, II n'est pas seulement napping: Je pense, myself, unless j'ai tort, Cette chose est yet to happen. En dix-huit forty-four, je sais, Vous'll hear des curious noises; He'll whet ses dents against some Clay, Et scare des Loco Bois-es! You know qui quand il est awake, Et quand il scratch ses clawses, Les Locos dans leurs souliers shake, Et, sheepish, hang leurs jaws-es. Ce meme vieux coon je ne sais pas why, Le mischief's come across him, II fait believe he's going to die, Quand seulement playing 'possum. Mais wait till nous le want encore, Nous'll stir him with une pole; He'll bite as mauvais as before Nous pulled him de son hole! Anonymous. [188] Macaronic Poetry WILD SPORTS IN THE EAST RMA virumque cano qui primo solebo peep- ing, Jam nunc cum tabbynox languet to but- ton her eyelids, Cum pointers et spaniels campos sylvasque per- errant. Vos mihi Brontothesi over arms small and great dominantes, Date spurs to dull poet qui dog Latin carmina condit, Artibus atque novis audax dum sportsman I follow Per stubbles et turnips et tot discrimina rerum, Dum partridge with popping terrificare minantur Pauci, namque valent a feather tangere plumbo! Carmina si hang fire discharge them bag-piping Apollo. Te quoque, magne cleator, te memorande pre- camur. Jam nunc thy fame gallops super Garamantos et Indos, Nam nabobs nil nisi de brimstone et charcoal loquentur, Horriferifizque "Tippoo" sulphurea, sustinet arma. Induit ecce shooter tunicam made of neat marble drugget, Quae bene convenient defluxit to the waistband of breeches, Nunc paper et powder et silices popped in the side-pocket, [189] A Whimsey Anthology Immemor haud shot-bag graditur comitatus two pointers, Mellorian retinens tormentum dextra bibarelled: En stat staunch dog Dingo haud aliter quam steady guide post, Proximus atque Pero per stat si ponere juxta, With gun cocked and levelled at aeva lumineclauso, Nunc avicida resolves haud double strong par- cere powder. Van teneri yelpers vos grandivique parentes Nunc palsy pate Jove orate to dress to the left hand, Et Veneri tip the wink like a shot to skim down ab alto Mingere per touch-hole totamque madescere prim- ing. Nunc lugete dire nunc sportsman plangite palmas, Ex silis ecce lepus from box cum thistle aperto! Bang bellowed both barrels, heu! pronus sterni- tur each dog, Et puss in the interim creeps away sub tegmine thornbush. Anonymous. TO THE FAIR "COME-OUTER" LADY! formosissima tu! Caeruleis oculis have you, Ditto nose! Et vous n'avez pas une faute And that you are going to vote, Goodness knows! [ 190] Macaronic Poetry And the roseus on your cheek, And your Algebra and Greek, Are parfait! And your jactus oculi Knows each star that shines in the Milky Way! You have pouting, piquant lips, Sans doute vous pouvez an eclipse Calculate! Ne Caerulum colorantur, I should have in you, instanter, Met my fate! Si, by some arrangement dual, I at once were Kant and Whewell; It would pay Procus noti then to come To so sweet an Artium Magistra ! Or, Jewel of Consistency, Si possem clear-starch, cookere, Votre learning Might the leges proscribere Do the pro patria mori, I, the churning! Anonymous [191] A Whimsey Anthology I "ICH BIN DEIN" N tempus old a hero lived, Qui loved puellas deux; He ne pouvait pas quite to say Which one amabat mieux. Dit-il lui-meme, un beau matin, Non 'possum both avoir, Sed si address Amanda Ann, Then Kate and I have war. Amanda habet argent coin, Sed Kate has aureas curls; Et both sunt very d billowy main Whose further shore is Greece strain again vain (Arcadia mythological allusion. Mem.: Lem- priere.) I see thee, Atalanta, vestal fleet, And look ! with doves low-fluttering round her feet, ( fields of n Comes Venus through the golden < > grain t bowing J * From Poems of H. C. Bunner, by permission of Char'es Scribner's Sons. [223] A Whimsey Anthology (Heard by the Poet's neighbor) Venus be bothered it's Virginia Dix! (Found on the Poet's door) Out on important business back at 6. H. C. Bunner. WHENCENESS OF THE WHICH (Some distance after Tennyson) COME into the Whenceness Which, For the fierce Because has flown: Come into the Whenceness Which, I am here by the Where alone; And the Whereas odors are wafted abroad Till I hold my nose and groan. Queen Which of the Whichbud garden of What's Come hither the jig is done. In gloss of Isness and shimmer of Was, Queen Thisness and Which is one; Shine out, little Which, sunning over the bangs, To the Nowness, and be its sun. There has fallen a splendid tear From the Is flower at the fence; She is coming, my Which, my dear, And as she Whistles a song of the Whence, The Nowness cries, "She is near, she is near." And the Thingness howls, "Alas!" The Whoness murmurs, "Well, I should smile," And the Whatlet sobs, "I pass." Anonymous. [22 4 ] Travesties THE MIGHTY MUST COME mighty Must! Inevitable Shall! In thee I trust. Time weaves my coronal! Go mocking Is! Go disappointing Was! That I am this Ye are the cursed cause! Yet humble second shall be first, I ween; And dead and buried be the curst Has Been! Oh weak Might Be! Oh, May, Might, Could, Would, Should! How powerless ye For evil or for good! In every sense Your moods I cheerless call, Whatever your tense Ye are imperfect, all! Ye have deceived the trust I've shown In ye! Away! The Mighty Must alone Shall be! W. S. Gilbert. [225] A Whimsey Anthology A CONCORD LOVE-SONG* SHALL we meet again, love, In the distant When, love, When the Now is Then, love, And the Present Past ? Shall the mystic Yonder, On which I ponder, I sadly wonder, With thee be cast? Ah, the joyless fleeting Of our primal meeting, And the fateful greeting Of the How and Why! Ah, the Thingness flying From the Hereness, sighing For a love undying That fain would die! Ah, the Ifness sadd'ning, The Whichness madd'ning, And the But ungladd'ning, That lie behind! When the signless token Of love is broken In the speech unspoken Of mind to mind! * By permission of E. H. Bacon & Co. [226] Travesties But the mind perceiveth When the spirit grieveth, And the heart relieveth Itself of woe; And the doubt-mists lifted From the eyes love-gifted Are rent and rifted In the warmer glow. In the inner Me, love, As I turn to thee, love, I seem to see love, No Ego there. But the Meness dead, love, The Theeness fled, love, And born instead, love, An Usness rare! James Jeffrey Roche. A SONG OF SORROW* (A Lullabylet for a Magazinelet) WAN from the wild and woful West Sleep, little babe, sleep on! Mother will sing to you know the rest Sleep, little babe, sleep on! Softly the sand steals slowly by, Cursed be the curlew's chittering cry; By-a-by, oh, by-a-by! Sleep, little babe, sleep on! * By permission of Harper & Bros. [227] A Whimsey Anthology Rosy and sweet come the hush of night Sleep, little babe, sleep on! (Twig to the lilt, I have got it all right) Sleep, little babe, sleep on! Dark are the dark and darkling days Winding the webbed and winsome ways, Homeward she creeps in dim amaze Sleep, little babe, sleep on! (But it waked up, drat it!) Charles Battell Loomts. WATERLOO PLACE WUW Wuw Wuw Wuw Wuw Wuw- W Waterloo Place ? yes you T take the first tut tut tut turning that faces you, Lul left, and then kuk kuk kuk kuk kuk kuk keep up, Pall Mall 'till you See the Wuw wuw Wuw Wuw Zounds, Sir, you'll get there before I can tell H. Cholmondeley-PennelL ALL THE SAME IN THE END (Epitaph in the Homers field, Eng., Churchyard) A S I walked by myself, I talked to myself, And thus myself said unto me: Look to thyself, and take care of thyself, For nobody cares for thee." [228] Tra v es ties So I turned to myself, and answered myself In the self-same reverie: " Look to thyself or not to thyself, The self-same thing it will be." Isaac Ross. A APPEAL FOR ARE TO THE SEXTANT OF THE OLD BRICK MEETINOUSE (By a gasper) I^HE sextant of the meetinouse, which sweeps And dusts, or is supposed too! and makes fiers, And lites the gas and sometimes leaves a screw loose, in which case it smells orful worse than lampile; And wrings the Bel and toles it when men dyes to the grief of survivin pardners, and sweeps pathes; And for the servases gits 100 per annum, Which them that thinks deer, let em try it; Getting up be foar star-lite in all weathers and Kindlin-fires when the wether it is cold As zero, and like as not green wood for kindlers; I wouldn't be hired to do it for no some But o sextant! there are I kermoddity Which's more than gold, wich doant cost nothin, Worth more than anything exsep the Sole of Man. i mean pewer Are, sextent, i mean pewer are! O it is plenty out o dores, so plenty it doant no What on airth to dew with itself, but flys about [22 9 ] A Whims ey Anthology Scaterin levs and bloin of men's hatts; in short, jest 'fre as are" out dores. But o sextant, in our church its scarce as piety, scarce as bank bills wen agints beg for mischuns, VVich some say purty often (taint nothin to me, Wat I give aint nothin to nobody), but o sextant, u shut 500 mens wimmen and children, Speshally the latter, up in a tite place, Some has bad breths, none aint 2 swete, some is fevery, some is scrofilus, some has bad teeth, And some haint none, and some aint over clean; But every I on em breethes in and out and out and in, Say 50 times a minit, or I million and a half breths an our, Now how long will a church ful of are last at that rate, I ask you, say 15 minutes, and then wats to be did ? Why then they must brethe it all over agin. And then agin, and so on, till each has took it down, At least ten times, and let it up again, and wats more The same individible don't have the privilege of brethen his own are, and no one's else; Each one mus take whatever comes to him. O sextant, don't you know our lungs is bellusses, To bio the fier of life, and keep it from goin out; and how can bellusses blow without wind, And aint wind are ? i put it to your conscens. Are is the same to us as milk to babes, Or water to fish, or pendlums to clox Or roots and airbs unto an injun Doctor, Or little pils to an omepath, [230] Travesties Or boys to gurls. Are is for us to brethe, Wat signifies who preeches if i cant brethe ? Wats Pol ? Wats Pollus ? to sinners who are ded ? Ded for want of breth ? why sextant, when we die Its only coz we cant brethe no more that's all. And now, O sextant, let me beg of you 2 let a little are into our church. (Fewer are is sertin proper for the pews) And do it weak days and Sundays tew It aint much trouble only make a hole And the are will come in itself; (It luvs to come in whare it can git warm:) And o how it will rouse the people up And sperrit up the preacher, and stop garbs, And yawns and figgits as effectooal As wind on the dry Boans the Profit tells of. Anonymous. [231 ] TECHNICAL WHIMSEYS THE COSMIC EGG UPON a rock, yet uncreate, Amid a chaos inchoate, An uncreated being sate; Beneath him, rock, Above him, cloud. And the cloud was rock, And the rock was cloud. The rock then growing soft and warm, The cloud began to take a form, A form chaotic, vast and vague, Which issued in the cosmic egg. Then the Being uncreate On the egg did incubate, And thus became the incubator; And of the egg did allegate, And thus became the alligator; And the incubator was potentate, But the alligator was ootentator. Anonymous. [ 232 ] Technical Whimseys ODE ON THE 450TH ANNIVERSARY CELEBRATION AT ETON of a number: double It (If that does not surpass thy wit); Subtract a dozen: add a score: Divide by twenty: multiply By twice the cube of x-f y, And half again as many more: Then take the twenty-seventh root And logarithmic sine to boot, And if the answer show Just nine times fifty, make it so. There's something more than half divine In fifty multiplied by nine: And never integer has been So grand as thirty times fifteen: The total I could doubtless praise In many other striking ways: But this at least is very plain, The same will never come again. Then make an exhibition please And summon guests from far and wide: And marry mystic melodies To odes instinct with proper pride. Invoke the Founder's mighty name, And boast of Gray's and Shelley's fame: [233] A Whimsey Anthology For this is very sure: that he Who misses the latest jubilee Shall not improbably be vexed By missing equally the next. Then let us resolutely strive This mighty fact to keep alive That 5 times 9 is 45; And furthermore the truth to fix (In their behoof whose course will run In June of 1981) That 54 is 9 times 6. 7. K. Stephen. I NURSERY GARDENING LEARN, in Kindergarten, all The little things are small. And how to fix a thing that winds. She says it rests our minds. And purple paper weaved with blue The next thing is to do. And toolyjoor I always learn How water will not burn. And then we string some yellow straw; I wonder what it's for. [234] Tech nic al W h im s ey s And Teacher makes us muddle clay One time each single day; And sing about a kitty-cat; But never learned me that. N.M. THE CHEMIST TO HIS LOVE I LOVE thee, Mary, and thou lovest me Our mutual flame is like th' affinity That doth exist between two simple bodies; I am Potassium to thine Oxygen. 'Tis little that the holy marriage vow Shall shortly make us one. That unity Is, after all, but metaphysical. Oh, would that I, my Mary, were an acid, A living acid; thou an alkali Endowed with human sense, that, brought together, We both might coalesce into one salt, One homogeneous crystal. Oh! that thou Wert Carbon, and myself were Hydrogen; We would unite to form olefiant gas, Or common coal, or naphtha would to Heaven That I were Phosphorus, and thou wert Lime! And we of Lime composed a Phosphuret. I'd be content to be Sulphuric Acid, So thou might be Soda; in that case We should be Glauber's Salt. Wert thou Magnesia Instead, we'd form that's named from Epsom. Couldst thou Potassia be, I Aqua-fortis, [235] A Whimsey Anthology Our happy union should that compound form, Nitrate of Potash otherwise Saltpetre. And thus our several natures sweetly blent, We'd live and love together, until death Should decompose that fleshly tertium quid, Leaving our souls to all eternity Amalgamated. Sweet, thy name is Briggs And mine is Johnson. Wherefore should not we i Agree to form a Johnsonate of Briggs ? We will! The day, the happy day is nigh, When Johnson shall with beauteous Briggs com- bine. Punch. ZOOLOGY AH! merry is the Madrepore that sits beside the j sea; The cheery little Coralline hath many charms for me; I love the fine Echinoderms, of azure, green, and That handled roughly fling their arms impulsively away; Then bring me here the microscope and let me see the cells Wherein the little Zoophite like garden floweret dwells. We'll take the fair Anemone from off its rocky seat, Since Rondeletius has said when fried 'tis good to eat. Tech nic a I W h im s ey s Dyspeptics from Sea-Cucumbers a lesson well may win, They blithely take their organs out and put some fresh ones in. The Rotifer in whirling round may surely bear the bell, With Oceanic Hydrozoids that Huxley knows so well. You've heard of the Octopus, 'tis a pleasant thing to know He has a ganglion makes him blush, not red, but white as snow; And why the strange Cercaria, to go a long way back, Wears ever, as some ladies do, a fashionable "sac"; And how the Pawn has parasites that on his head make holes; Ask Dr. Cobbold, and he'll say they're just like tiny soles. Then study well zoology, and add unto your store The tale of Biogenesis and Protoplasmic lore; As Paley neatly has observed, when into life they burst, The frog and the philosopher are just the same at first; But what's the origin of life remains a puzzle still, Let Tyndall, Haeckel, Bastian, go wrangle as they will. Punch. [237] A Whimsey Anthology A BILLET-DOUX ACCEPT, dear Miss, this article of mine, (For what's indefinite, who can define?) My case is singular, my house is rural, Wilt thou, indeed, consent to make it plural? Something, I feel, pervades my system through. I can't describe, yet substantively true, Thy form so feminine, thy mind reflective, Where all's possessive good, and nought objective. I'm positive none can compare with thee In wit and worth's superlative degree. First person, then, indicative but prove, Let thy soft passive voice exclaim, "I love!" Active, in cheerful mood, no longer neuter, I'll leave my cares, both present, past, and future. But ah! what torture must I undergo Till I obtain that little "Yes" or "No!" Spare me the negative to save compunction, Oh, let my preposition meet conjunction! What could excite such pleasing recollection, At hearing thee pronounce this interjection, "I will be thine! thy joys and griefs to share, Till Heaven shall please to point a period there!" Anonymous. [238] IMITATIVE HARMONY THE BELLS Hear the sledges with the bells Silver bells What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night ! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight; Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells From the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells. Hear the mellow wedding-bells, Golden bells! What a world of happiness their harmony foretells! Through the balmy air of night How they ring out their delight From the molten-golden notes! And all in tune, What a liquid ditty floats To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats On the moon! [239] A Whimsey Anthology Oh, from out the sounding cells, What a gush of euphony voluminously wells! How it swells! How it dwells On the Future! how it tells Of the rapture that impels To the swinging and the ringing Of the bells, bells, bells Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells! Hear the loud alarum bells Brazen bells! What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells! J In the startled ear of night How they scream out their affright! Too much horrified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek, Out of tune, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire, In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire Leaping higher, higher, higher, With a desperate desire, And a resolute endeavour, Now now to sit or never, By the side of the pale-faced moon. Oh, the bells, bells, bells! What a tale their terror tells Of despair! [240] Imitative Harmony How they clang, and clash, and roar! What a horror they outpour On the bosom of the palpitating air! Yet the ear, it fully knows, By the twanging And the clanging, How the danger ebbs and flows; Yet the ear distinctly tells, In the jangling And the wrangling, How the danger sinks and swells, By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells- Of the bells- Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells- In the clamour and the clangour of the bells! Hear the tolling of the bells Iron bells! What a world of solemn thought their monody compels! In the silence of the night How we shiver with affright At the melancholy menace of their tone! For every sound that floats From the rust within their throats, Is a groan: And the people ah, the people They that dwell up in the steeple, All alone, A Whimsey Anthology And who, tolling, tolling, tolling, In that muffled monotone, Feel a glory in so rolling On the human heart a stone They are neither man nor woman They are neither brute nor human They are Ghouls! And their king it is who tolls; And he rolls, rolls, rolls, rolls, A paean from the bells! And his merry bosom swells With the paean of the bells! And he dances and he yells; Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the paean of the bells Of the bells; Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the throbbing of the bells Of the bells, bells, bells, To the sobbing of the bells; Keeping time, time, time, As he knells, knells, knells, In a happy Runic rhyme, To the rolling of the bells Of the bells, bells, bells To the tolling of the bells, Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells To the moaning and the groaning of the bells. Edgar Allan Poe. [2 4 2] Imitative Harmony THE CATARACT OF LODORE HOW does the water Come down at Lodore?" My little boy asked me Thus, once on a time; And moreover he tasked me To tell him in rhyme. Anon at the word, There first came one daughter, And then came another, To second and third The request of their brother, And to hear how the water Comes down at Lodore, With its rush and its roar, As many a time They had seen it before. So I told them in rhyme, For of rhymes I had store; And 'twas in my vocation For their recreation That so I should sing; Because I was Laureate To them and the King. From its sources which well In the tarn on the fell; [243 ] A Whimsey Anthology From its fountains In the mountains, Its rills and its gills; Through moss and through brake, It runs and it creeps For a while till it sleeps In its own little lake. And thence at departing, Awakening and starting, It runs through the reeds, And away it proceeds, Through meadow and glade, In sun and in shade, And through the wood-shelter, Among crags in its flurry, Helter-skelter, Hurry-skurry, Here it comes sparkling, And there it lies darkling; Now smoking and frothing Its tumult and wrath in, Till, in this rapid race On which it is bent, It reaches the place Of its steep descent. The cataract strong Then plunges along, Striking and raging As if a war waging Its caverns and rocks among; Rising and leaping, [244] Imitative Harm ony Sinking and creeping, Swelling and sweeping, Showering and springing, Flying and flinging, Writhing and wringing, Eddying and whisking, Spouting and frisking, Turning and twisting Around and around With endless rebound: Smiting and fighting, A sight to delight in; Confounding, astounding, Dizzying and deafening the ear with its sound. Collecting, projecting, Receding and speeding, And shocking and rocking, And darting and parting, And threading and spreading, And whizzing and hissing, And dripping and skipping, And hitting and splitting, And shining and twining, And rattling and battling, And shaking and quaking, And pouring and roaring, And waving and raving, And tossing and crossing, And flowing and going, And running and stunning, And foaming and roaming, [245] A Whimsey A n't ho logy And dinning and spinning, And dropping and hopping, And working and jerking, And guggling and struggling, And heaving and cleaving, And moaning and groaning; And glittering and frittering, And gathering and feathering, And whitening and brightening. And quivering and shivering, And hurrying and skurrying, And thundering and floundering; Dividing and gliding and sliding, And falling and brawling and sprawling, And driving and riving and striving, And sprinkling and twinkling and wrinkling, And sounding and bounding and rounding, And bubbling and troubling and doubling, And grumbling and rumbling and tumbling, And clattering and battering and shattering; Retreating and beating and meeting and sheeting, Delaying and straying and playing and spraying, Advancing and prancing and glancing and dancing, Recoiling, turmoiling and toiling and boiling, And gleaming and streaming and steaming and beaming, And rushing and flushing and brushing and gushing, And flapping and rapping and clapping and slapping, [246] Imitative H arm ony And curling and whirling and purling and twirling, And thumping and plumping and bumping and jumping, And dashing and flashing and splashing and clashing; And so never ending, but always descending, Sounds and motions forever and ever are blending, All at once and all o'er, with a mighty uproar, And this way the water comes down at Lodore. Robert Soutbey. WHAT IS A WOMAN LIKE? A WOMAN is like to but stay What a woman is like, who can say ? There is no living with or without one. Love bites like a fly, Now an ear, now an eye, Buz, buz, always buzzing about one. When she's tender and kind She is like to my mind, (And Fanny was so, I remember). She's like to Oh, dear! She's as good, very near, As a ripe, melting peach in September. If she laugh, and she chat, Play, joke, and all that, And with smiles and good humor she meet me, She's like a rich dish Of venison or fish, That cries from the table, Come eat me! [247] A Whimsey Anthology But she'll plague you and vex you, Distract and perplex you; False-hearted and ranging, Unsettled and changing, What then do you think, she is like? Like sand ? Like a rock ? Like a wheel ? Like a clock ? Ay, a clock that is always at strike. Her head's like the island folks tell on, Which nothing but monkeys can dwell on; Her heart's like a lemon so nice She carves for each lover a slice; In truth she's to me, Like the wind, like the sea, Whose raging will hearken to no man: Like a mill, like a pill, Like a flail, like a whale, Like an ass, like a glass Whose image is constant to no man; Like a shower, like a flower, Like a fly, like a pie, Like a pea, like a flea, Like a thief, like in brief, She's like nothing on earth but a woman! Anonymous. THE KITCHEN CLOCK TNITTING is the maid o' the kitchen, Milly,| Doing nothing sits the chore boy, Billy; " Seconds reckoned, Seconds reckoned; [248] Imitative Harmony Every minute, Sixty in it. Milly, Billy, Billy, Milly, Tick-tock, tock-tick, Nick-knock, knock-nick, Knockety-nick, nickety-knock," Goes the kitchen clock. Closer to the fire is rosy Milly, Every whit as close and cozy, Billy; "Time's a-flying, Worth your trying; Pretty Milly Kiss her, Billy! Milly, Billy, Billy, Milly, Tick-tock, tock-tick, Now now, quick quick! Knockety-nick, nickety-knock," Goes the kitchen clock. Something's happened, very red is Milly, Billy boy is looking very silly; "Pretty misses, Plenty kisses; Make it twenty, Take a plenty. Billy, Milly, Milly, Billy, Right left, left right, That's right, all right, [249] A Whimsey Anthology Knockety-nick, nickety-knock," Goes the kitchen clock. Weeks gone, still they're sitting, Milly, Billy; Oh, the winter winds are wondrous chilly! "Winter weather, Close together; Wouldn't tarry, Better marry. Milly, Billy, Billy, Milly, Two one, one two, Don't wait, 'twon't do, Knockety-nick, nickety-knock," Goes the kitchen clock. Winters two have gone, and where is Milly? Spring has come again, and where is Billy? "Give me credit, For I did it; Treat me kindly, Mind you wind me. Mister Billy, Mistress Milly, My O, O my, By-by, by-by, Nickety-knock, cradle rock," Goes the kitchen clock. John Vance Cheney. [250] Imitative Harmony THE FISHERMAN'S CHANT OH, the fisherman is a happy wight! He dibbles by day, and he sniggles by night. He trolls for fish, and he trolls his lay He sniggles by night, and he dibbles by day. Oh, who so merry as he! On the river or the sea ! Sniggling, Wriggling Eels, and higgling Over the price Of a nice Slice Of fish, twice As much as it ought to be. Oh, the fisherman is a happy man! He dibbles, and sniggles, and fills his can! With a sharpened hook, and a sharper eye. He sniggles and dibbles for what comes by. Oh, who so merry as he! On the river or the sea! Dibbling Nibbling Chub, and quibbling Over the price Of a nice Slice Of fish, twice As much as it ought to be. F. C. Burnand. [251] A Whimsey Anthology THE RECRUIT SEZ Corporal Madden to Private McFadden: "Bedad, yer a bad un! Now turn out yer toes! Yer belt is unhookit, Yer cap is on crookit, Ye may not be dhrunk, But, be jabers, ye look it! Wan two! Wan two! Ye monkey-faced divil, I'll jolly ye through! Wan two! Time! Mark! Ye march like the aigle in Cintheral Parrk!" Sez Corporal Madden to Private McFadden: "A saint it ud sadden To dhrill such a mug! Eyes front! ye baboon, ye! Chin up! ye gossoon, ye! Ye've jaws like a goat Halt! ye leather-lipped loon, ye! Wan two! Wan two ! Ye whiskered orang-outang, I'll fix you! Wan two ! Time! Mark! Ye've eyes like a bat! can ye see in the dark?" [ 252] Imitative Harmony Sez Corporal Madden to Private McFadden: "Yer figger wants padd'n' Sure, man, ye've no shape! Behind ye yer shoulders Stick out like two boulders; Yer shins is as thin As a pair of pen-holders! Wan two! Wan two! Yer belly belongs on yer back, ye Jew! Wan two! Time! Mark! I'm dhry as a dog I can't shpake but I bark!" S(/ Corporal Madden to Private McFadden: "Me heart it ud gladden To blacken your eye. Ye're gettin* too bold, ye Compel me to scold ye, 'Tis halt! that I say, Will ye heed what I told ye ? Wan two! Wan two! Be jabers, I'm dhryer than Brian Boru! Wan two! Time! Mark! What's wur-ruk for chickens is sport for the lark!' 1 Sez Corporal Madden to Private McFadden: "I'll not stay a gaddin', Wid dagoes like you! [253] A Whimsey Anthology I'll travel no farther, I'm dyin' for wather; Come on, if ye like, Can ye loan me a quather? Ya-as, you What, two ? And ye'll pay the potheen ? Ye're a daisy! Whurroo! You'll do! Whist! Mark! The Rigiment's flattered to own ye, me spark!" Robert William Chambers. NO! NO sun no moon! No morn no noon No dawn no dusk no proper time of day No sky no earthly view No distance looking blue No road no street no "t'other side the way"- No end to any Row No indications where the Crescents go No top to any steeple No recognitions of familiar people No courtesies for showing 'em No knowing 'em! No travelling at all no locomotion, No inkling of the way no notion "No go" by land or ocean [254] Imitative Harmony No mail no post No news from any foreign coast No park no ring no afternoon gentility No company no nobility No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease, No comfortable feel in any member No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds, November! Thomas Hood. LAY OF THE DESERTED INFLUENZAED DOE, doe! I shall dever see her bore! Dever bore our feet shall rove The beadows as of yore! Dever bore with byrtle boughs Her tresses shall I twide Dever bore her bellow voice Bake bellody with bide! Dever shall we lidger bore, Abid the flow'rs at dood, Dever shall we gaze at dight Upon the tedtder bood! Ho, doe, doe! Those berry tibes have flowd, Ad I shall dever see her bore, By beautiful! by owd! [255] A Whimsey Anthology Ho, doe, doe! I shall dever see her bore, She will forget be id a bonth, (Host probably before) She will forget the byrtle boughs, The flow'rs we plucked at dood, Our beetigs by the tedtder stars, Our gazigs at the bood. Ad I shall dever see agaid The Lily and the Rose; The dabask cheek! the sdowy brow! The perfect bouth ad dose! Ho, doe, doe! Those berry tibes have flowd Ad I shall dever see her bore, By beautiful! by owd!! H. Cholmondeley-PennelL BELAGCHOLLY DAYS CHILLY Dovebber with his boadigg blast Dow cubs add strips the beddow add the lawd, Eved October's suddy days are past Add Subber's gawd! I kdow dot what it is to which I cligg That stirs to sogg add sorrow, yet I trust That still I sigg, but as the liddets sigg Because I bust. [256] Imitative H armony Add dow, farewell to roses add to birds, To larded fields and tigkligg streablets eke; Farewell to all articulated words I faid would speak. Farewell, by cherished strolliggs od the sward, Greed glades add forest shades, farewell to you; With sorrowing heart I, wretched add forlord, Bid you achew!!! Anonymous. AN INVITATION TO THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS (By a Stuttering Lover) THAVE found out a gig-gig-gift for my fuf-fuf- fair, I have found where the rattlesnakes bub- bub-breed; Will you co-co-come, and I'll show you the bub- bub-bear, And the lions and tit-tit-tigers at fuf-fuf-feed. I know where the co-co-cockatoo's song Makes mum-mum-melody through the sweet vale ; Where the mum-monkeys gig-gig-grin all the day long, Or gracefully swing by the tit-tit-tit-tail. [257] A IVhimsey Anthology You shall pip-play, dear, some did-did-delicate joke With the bub-bub-bear on the tit-tit-top of his pip-pip-pip-pole; But observe, 'tis forbidden to pip-pip-poke At the bub-bub-bear with your pip-pip-pink pip-pip-pip-pip-parasol ! You shall see the huge elephant pip-pip-play, You shall gig-gig-gaze on the stit-stit-stately raccoon; And then, did-did-dear, together we'll stray, To the cage of the bub-bub-blue-faced bab-bab boon. You wished (I r-r-remember it well, And I lul-lul-loved you the m-m-more for th wish) To witness the bub-bub-beautiful pip-pip-pel- ican swallow the 1-1-live little fuf-fuf-fish ! Punch [258] LIMERICKS SHORT MUSICAL HISTORIES was a composer named Liszt, ; Who from writing could never desiszt; He made Polonaises, Quite worthy of praises, And now that he's gone, he is miszt. Another composer named Haydn, The field of Sonata would waydn; He wrote the "Creation," Which made a sensation. And this was the work which he daydn. A modern composer named Brahms, Caused in music the greatest of quahms, His themes so complex Every critic would vex, From symphonies clear up to psahms. An ancient musician named Gluck The manner Italian forsuck: He fought with Piccini, Gave way to Rossini, You can find all his views in a buck. Anonymous. [259] A Whimsey Anthology PREVALENT POETRY A WANDERING tribe, called the Siouxs, J-\ Wear moccasins, having no shiouxs, They are made of buckskin, With the fleshy side in, Embroidered with beads of bright hyiouxs When out on the war-path, the Siouxs March single file never by tiouxs And by "blazing" the trees Can return at their ease, And their way through the forests ne'er liouxs. All new-fashioned boats he eschiouxs, And uses the birch-bark caniouxs; These are handy and light, And, inverted at night, Give shelter from storms and from dyiouxs. The principal food of the Siouxs Is Indian maize, which they briouxs And hominy make, Or mix in a cake, And eat it with fork, as they chiouxs. Anonymoix [260] Limericks TOPOGRAPHICAL N old couple living in Gloucester Had a beautiful girl, but they loucester; She fell from a yacht, And never the spacht Could be found where the cold waves had toucester. A An old lady living in Worcester Had a gift of a handsome young rorcester; But the way that it crough, As 'twould never get through, Was more than the lady was uorcester. At the bar in the old inn at Leicester Was a beautiful bar-maid named Heicester; She gave to each guest Only what was the buest, And they all, with one accord, bleicester Anonymous. A SERIOUS LOVE SPELL A YOUNG lady sings in our choir Whose hair is the color of phoir, But her charm is unique, She has such a fair chique, It is really a joy to be nhoir. [261] A Whimsey Anthology Whenever she looks down the aisle She gives me a beautiful smaisle, And of all of her beaux, I am certain she sheaux She likes me the best all the whaisle. Last Sunday she wore a new sacque, Low cut at the front and the bacque. And a lovely bouquet Worn in such a cute wuet As only few girls have the knacque. Some day, ere she grows too antique, In marriage her hand I shall sique; If she's not a coquette, Which I'd greatly regruette, She shall share my $6 a wique. Anonymous O WILHELMJ H, King of the fiddle, Wilhelmj, If truly you love me just tellmj; Just answer my sigh By a glance of your eye, Be honest, and don't try to sellmj. With rapture your music did thrillmj; With pleasure supreme did it fillmj, And if I could believe That you meant to deceive Wilhelmj, I think it would killmj. Robert J. Burdette [ 262 ] Limericks SOME SAINTLY CITIES A SPORTY young man in St. Pierre > ^ Had a sweetheart and oft went to sierre. She was Gladys by name, And one time when he came Her mother said: "Gladys St. Hierre." A globe-trotting man from St. Paul Made a trip to Japan in the faul. One thing he found out, As he rambled about, Was that Japanese ladies St. Taul. A guy asked two jays at St. Louis What kind of an Indian the Souis. They said: "We're no en- Cyclopedia, by hen!" Said the guy: "If you fellows St. Whouis?" A bright little maid in St. Thomas Discovered a suit of pajhomas. Said the maiden: "Well, well! What they are I can't tell; But I'm sure that these garments St. Mhomas." Ferdinand G. Cbristgau. [263] S A Whims ey Anthology BY CAROLYN WELLS AID a bad little youngster named Beauchamp: "Those jelly-tarts how shall I reauchamp? To my parents I'd go, But they always say 'No/ No matter how much I beseauchamp." A very polite man named Hawarden Went out to plant flowers in his gawarden. If he trod on a slug, A worm, or a bug, He said: "My dear friend, I beg pawarden!" * * * There was a young fellow named Knollys, Who was fond of a good game of kbollys; He jumped and he ran, This clever young man, And often he took pleasant kstrollys. * * * A lady who lived by the Thames Had a gorgeous collection of ghames. She had them reset In a large coronet And a number of small diadhames. A tutor who tooted the flute Tried to tutor two tooters to toot. [264] Limericks Said the two to the tutor, "Is it harder to toot or To tutor two tooters to toot ? " A canner, exceedingly canny, One morning remarked to his granny, "A canner can can Anything that he can, But a canner can't can a can, can he?" There was a young fellow named Tait, Who dined with his girl at 8. 08; But I'd hate to relate - What that fellow named Tait And his tete-k-tete ate at 8. 08 ! There was a young man of Typhoo Who wanted to catch the 2. 02, But his friend said, "Don't hurry Or worry or flurry, It's a minute or two to 2. 02." "There's a train at 4.04," said Miss Jenny, "Four tickets I'll take; have you any?" Said the man at the door, " Not four for 4. 04, For four for 4. 04 is too many!" [265] A W 'him s ey A n t holo gy There was a nice fellow named Jenner, Who sang a phenomenal tenor, He had little to spend, So I often would lend The tenor a ten or a tenner. Carolyn Wells. There once was a Master of Arts Who was nuts upon cranberry tarts; When he'd eaten his fill, He was awfully ill, But he still was a Master of Arts. Cosmo Monkhouse. There once were some learned M.D.'s, Who captured some germs of disease, And infected a train, Which without causing pain, Allowed one to catch it with ease. Oliver Herford. There was a young lady of Lynn, Who was deep in original sin; When they said, "Do be good," She said, "Would if I could !" And straightway went at it ag'in. Anonymous. [266] Limericks I'd rather have fingers than toes; I'd rather have ears than a nose; And as for my hair I'm glad it's all there, I'll be awfully sad when it goes. Gelett Burgess. There was a young fellow named Clyde; Who was once at a funeral spied. When asked who was dead, He smilingly said, "/ don't know, / just came for the ride!" Anonymous. There was a young lady of Truro, Who wished a mahogany bureau; But her father said, "Dod! All the men on Cape Cod Couldn't buy a mahogany bureau!" Anonymous. There was a young man of Ostend Who vowed he'd hold out to the end, But when halfway over From Calais to Dover, He done what he didn't intend Anonymous. [267] A JVhimsey Anthology There was an Old Man in a tree Who was horribly bored by a bee; When they said, "Does it buzz?" He replied, "Yes, it does! It's a regular brute of a bee." Edward Lear. * * * There was an Old Man of St. Bees Who was stung in the arm by a wasp. When asked, "Does it hurt?" He replied, "No, it doesn't, But I thought all the while 'twas a hornet." W. S. Gilbert * * * There was an old man of the Rhine, When asked at what hour he would dine, Replied, "At eleven, Four, six, three and seven, And eight and a quarter of nine." * * * There was a young man of Laconia, Whose mother-in-law had pneumonia; He hoped for the worst, And after March first They buried her 'neath a begonia. * * * There was a young man of the cape Who always wore trousers of crepe; Whep asked, "Don't they tear?" He replied, "Here and there; But they keep such a beautiful shape." [268] Limericks There was a young man of Fort Blainey, Who proposed to a typist named Janey;* When his friends said, "Oh, dear! She's so old and so queer!" He replied, "But the day was so rainy!" Anonymous. 269 INDEX OF TITLES INDEX OF TITLES PAGE A, B, C C. S. Calverley ... 38 Acrostic Sir John Dames ... 73 Acrostic Charles Lamb .... 73 Acrostic Bogart 74 Acrostic Lewis Carroll .... 75 Acrostic, An Anonymous .... 75 Acrostic, An Lewis Carroll .... 76 Acrostic, Double .... Anonymous .... 77 Acrostic, Particular .... Thomas Jordan ... 78 Acrostic, Peculiar A Valentine E. A . Poe 77 Ad Mortem Anonymous . . . .170 Adioux Among the Sioux . . Anonymous . . . . 16 ^Estivation Oliver Wendell Holmes . 187 After Dilettante Concetti . . H.D.Traill . . . .216 All the Same in the End . . Isaac Ross . . . .228 Alphabet Verse Anonymous .... 66 Alphabetical Wooing, An . . A nonymous ....51 Ambiguous Lines .... Anonymous . . . .182 Animal Alphabet, An . . . Anonymous .... 42 Animal Alphabet, An . . . Edward Lear .... 43 Appeal for Are to the Sextant of the Old Brick Meetinouse, A (By a gasper) .... Anonymous . . . .229 Approach of Evening, The . . A nonymous .... 64 Arab and his Donkey, An . . Anonymous .... 57 Avoirdupois Anonymous . . . . 36 BACCHANALIAN TOAST, A . . Robert Herrick . . .105 Bait of the Average Fisherman H. C. Dodge .... 25 Ballad of Ameighlia Maireigh, The Anonymous .... 9 Ballad of the Canal .... Phoebe Gary . . . .222 Ballade W. E. Henley . . . 161 Beauties of English Orthog- raphy, The Anonymous .... 203 [273] A Whimsey Anthology Belagcholly Days .... Anonymous . . . Bells, The E.A.Poe . . . . Billet-Doux, A Anonymous . . . Bloom, Beauteous Blossoms . Sir Patrick Fells . Border Ballad, A .... Captain Harry Graham Bowled Anonymous ... Briefless Barrister, The . . John G. Saxe . . . CARELESSE NURSE MAYD, THE Thomas Hood Catalectic Monody, A ... Cruikshank's Omnibus Cataract of Lodore, The . . Robert Southey . . Caution, A Anonymous . . . Cautions Hugh Rhodes . . . Ce Meme Vieux Coon . . . Anonymous . . . Charade : Campbell .... Winthrop Mackworth Praed .... Chemist to his Love, The . Punch Concord Love-Song, A ... James Jeffrey Roche . Conjugal Conjugations . . A . W. Bellaw . . . Cosmic Egg, The .... Anonymous . . . Country Summer Pastoral, A . Anonymous . . . Court of Aldermen at Fish- mongers' Hall, The . . . Anonymous . . . Cow, The ABovinity. . . Anonymous . . . Cuckoo, The Old Rhyme . . . Cushat, The Alexander Montgomery DAYS IN THE MONTHS . . . Anonymous . . . Days of Birth Old Rhyme . . . Death of Little Nell . . . Charles Dickens . . Dirge Anonymous . . . Doneraile Litany, The . . . Patrick O' Kelly . . Double-Faced Creed, The . . Anonymous . . . Double Knock, The . . . Thomas Hood . . EARTH Anonymous . . . Echo John G. Saxe . . . Echoes Lewis Carroll . . . Enigma on Cod Anonymous . . . Enigma on the Letter H . . Catherine Fanshawe . Enigma on the Letter I ... Catherine Fanshawe . Equivocal Verses .... Anonymous . [274] Index of Titles FALL OF EVE, THE .... Anonymous .... 63 Famous Riddle, A . . . . A nonymous .... 85 Fate of Nassan, The . . . Anonymous .... 65 Fate of the Glorious Devil, The Anonymous . . . .175 Ferry Tale, A Charles E. Carryl . . 149 Fisherman's Chant, The . . F.C.Burnand . . .251 Five Wines Robert H errick . . .137 Flagon, The Pannard 23 French Adage Anonymous . . . .100 From Vivette's "Milkmaid" . Carolyn Wells . . .199 Future of the Classics, The . . Anonymous . . . .143 GEOGRAPHICAL LOVE SONG, A Anonymous .... 53 Glass, The Pannard 24 HALF HOURS WITH THE CLAS- SICS H. J. DeBurgh . ..17 H>urs of Sleep Anonymous .... 99 Hundred Best Books, The . . Mostyn T. Pigott . . 106 " Ini BINDEIN" .... Anonymous .... 192 Incontrovertible Facts . . . Anonymous .... 64 Indian Tribes Anonymous . . . . in Invitation to the Zoological Gardens, An Punch 257 Isrufiddlestrings .... Anonymous . . . .219 JAPANESQUE Oliver Her ford . . .208 fob Anonymous . . . . 16 focosaLyra Austin Dobson . . .145 Jones's Ride .* . . . . McLandburgh Wilson . 34 Joys of Marriage, The . . . Charles Cotton . . .119 Justice to Scotland .... Punch 201 KITCHEN CLOCK, THE . . . John Vance Cheney . . 248 LADY MOON Christina G. Rossetti . . 96 Lay of the Deserted Influenzaed H. Cholmondeley-Pennell 255 Letter H's Protest to the Cock- neys, The Mr.Skeat 81 Life Anonymous . . . .172 Limerick Cosmo M onkhouse . . 266 Limerick Oliver Her ford ... 266 [275 ] A Whimsey Anthology PAGE Limerick ' Gelett Burgess . . .267 Limerick Edward Lear .... 268 Limerick W.S.Gilbert .... 268 Limericks Carolyn Wells . . . 264 Limericks Anonymous . 266, 267, 268 Little Boys take Warning . . Anonymous .... 28 Little Star, The Anonymous . . . .214 Lines on Rose Charles Battell Loomis . 138 London Bells Anonymous . . . . 115 < Lovelilts Anonymous .... 60 Love's Moods and Senses . . Anonymous .... 5 MACARONIC MOTHER GOOSE . Anonymous .... Man of Words, A .... Anonymous .... Memorandums Charles E. Carryl . . Mice, The Lewis Carroll .... Midsummer Madness . . . Anonymous .... Mighty Must, The .... W.S.Gilbert .... Monorhymed Alphabet . . Anonymous .... Monorhymed Alphabet . . Mortimer Collins . . . Musical Ass, The .... Tomaso de Yriarte MyGenevieve Anonymous .... My Madeline Anonymous .... My Manx Minx Orlando Thomas Dobbin NERVE THY SOUL .... Anonymous .... New- Year's Gift for Shrews, A . Anonymous .... No I Thomas Hood . . . Nocturnal Sketch, A . . . Thomas Hood . . . Nursery Gardening . . . . N. M Nursery Rhyme, A .... Anonymous .... ODE ON THE 450TH ANNIVER- SARY CELEBRATION AT ETON /. K. Stephen . . O D V Anonymous . O I C Anonymous Old Adage Anonymous . . . Old Riddle Anonymous Old Saw Anonymous . . . On the Street Anonymous ... One Week Carolyn Wells . . . 120! Optimism N. M 2i2| Original Lamb, The . . . Tid-bits aifl [276] Index of Titles Original Love Story, An Ough O-U-G-H. A Fresh Hack at an Old Knot Out of Sight, Out of Mind . . Ow Anonymous .... 7 Anonymous . . . . 13 Charles Battett Loom is . 14 Barnaby Googe . . .169 Anonymous . . . . 15 PALINDROME LINES . . . Anonymous .... 95 Palindromes H. Campkin .... 93 Panegyric on the Ladies . . Anonymous . . . .181 Pearl of Palencia, The . . . Walter Parke . . . . u Perfect Greyhound, The . . Old Rhyme .... 97 Peter Piper Anonymous . . . .123 Philosophic Advice .... Anonymous .... 102 Philosophy Anonymous .... 65 Piazza Tragedy, A .... Eugene Field . . . .215 Pitcher of Mignonette, A . . H.C.Bunner . . .160 IM.it form, The Anonymous .... 180 Poetry and the Poet . . . H . C. Bunner . . .223 Prevalent Poetry .... Anonymous .... 260 Procuratores Anonymous .... 72 Prognostications .... Anonymous .... 99 QILERITUR Rudyard Kipling . . 71 "Oueries" W.Stanford .... 8 REASONS FOR DRINKING . . Dr. Henry Aldrich . . 104 Ki-rniit, The Robert William Chambers 252 Remember Judy 166 Rhyme for Musicians, A . E. Lemke 109 Rhyme for Tipperary, A . Dr . Fitzgerald . .129 Right Sort of a Fellow, The Anonymous . . . 102 Roman Nose, The . . . Merrie England . .128 Romantic Recollections. . Henry S.Leigh . .61 Rondeau Leigh Hunt . . . 166 Rondeau, The Austin Dobson . .156 Rondelay, A Peter A.M. otteux . .163 Roundel, The A.C.Swinburne . . 156 Royalist Lines Anonymous . . . 184 Rule of Three, A .... Wallace Rice . . . 104 Ruling Power, The .... Thomas Hood . .126 Russo-Turkish War, The . . Anonymous . . . 63 [277] A Whimsey Anthology PAGE SERIOUS LOVE SPELL, A . . Anonymous .... 261 Shake, Mulleary and Go-ethe . H. C. Bunner . . . 19 Sheridan's Calendar . . . Anonymous .... 103 Short Musical Histories . . Anonymous .... 250 Siege of Belgrade, The . . . Anonymous . . . 37 Signs of Rain Edward Jenner . . .112 Similes Anonymous . . . . 113 Simple English Ray Clarke Rose . . .124 "Soldier, Rest!" .... Robert J . Burdette . . 202 Some Saintly Cities .... Ferdinand G. Christgau . 263 Song Addison 185 Song for a Cracked Voice . . Wallace Irwin . . .150 Song of Sorrow, A .... Charles Battell Loomis . 227 Song of the Decanter . . . Anonymous .... 22 Song of the Kettle .... Charles Dickens . . . 154 Song of the &, A .... Anonymous .... 58 Sonnet on the Sonnet . . . James Y.Gibson . . .164 Sonnet to a Clam .... JohnG.Saxe . . . . 165 ; Sonnet to Order H . C. Bunner . . .164. Spelling Reform .... Anonymous . . . .210 Stegomyia, The Anonymous .... 27 Sunday Fisherman The . . A . W. Bellaiv . ... 54 Susan Simpson Anonymous . . . . 69 '.' TALE OF A MOUSE, THE . . Lewis Carroll .... 29 Telegram Anagrammatised, A Dr. John Abernethy . .91 Tema Con Variazioni . . . Lewis Carroll . . . . 158 } Thatcher, The Anonymous . . . . 123 I 'Tis Ever Thus R. K. Munkittrick . .no To Mrs. Thrale on her Thirty- fifth Birthday .... Boswell 128 j To My Nose Alfred A. Forrester . .209 TotheFair"Come-Outer" . Anonymous . . . .190] Topographical Anonymous .... 261 j Travesty of Miss Fanshawe's Enigma Horace Mayhew ... 80 Triolet Paul T.Gilbert . . .159 Triolet, The W. E. Henley . . . 159 ] Triolet, The Austin Dob son . . . 160 j Triolet, A Cubic .... Anonymous .... 36 Triolets Ollendorffiens . . . J. K. Stephen . . . . 200 .i Trip to Paris, A James Smith .... 146 Twiner, The Dr.Wallis . . . .122 [278] Index of Titles Two Apple-Howling Songs . Anonymous .... 98 Type of Beauty, A .... Anonymous .... 26 UNCORDIER Attain Chartier . . . 122 Under the Trees .... C.S.Calverley . . .125 Unsolved Enigma, An ... Anonymous .... 83 VERY FELIS-ITOUS .... Green Kendrick . . .186 Villanelle Waller W. Sleat ... 155 Villanelle W.E.Henley . . .162 Villanelle of Things Amusing . Gelett Burgess . . .157 Villikens Richard Mansfield . . 198 WAIL OF THE "PERSONALLY CONDUCTED," THE . . . H.C.Bunner . . .167 Waterloo Place H.Cholmondeley-Pennell 228 What Hiawatha Probably Did Anonymous . . . .124 What is a Woman Like ? Whatever is, is Right Whenceness of the Which Wild Sports in the East Anonymous .... 247 Laman Blanchard . .178 Anonymous .... 224 Anonymous .... 189 \\ilhelfnj Robert J. Burdette . . 262 Wine Glass, The .... Anonymous .... 21 YE CARPETTE KNYGHTE . . Lewis Carroll . . . .195 ZEALLESS XYLOGRAPHER, THE Mary Mapes Dodge . . 52 Zoology Punch 236 [279] INDEX OF AUTHORS INDEX OF AUTHORS ABERNETHY, DR. JOHN PAGE A Telegram Anagrammatised 91 ADDISON Song 185 ALDRICH, DR. HENRY Reasons for Drinking 104 BELLAW, A. W. Conjugal Conjugations 3 The Old Line Fence 31 The Sunday Fisherman 54 BLANCHARD, LAMAN Whatever is, is Right 178 Boo ART Acrostic 74 BOSWELL To Mrs. Thrale on her Thirty-fifth Birthday . .128 BUNNER, H. C. Shake, Mulleary and Go-ethe 19 A Pitcher of Mignonette 160 Sonnet to Order 164 The Wail of the "Personally Conducted" . . .167 Poetry and the Poet 223 BURDETTE, ROBERT J. "Soldier, Rest!" 202 Wilhelmj 262 BURGESS, GELETT Villanelle of Things Amusing 157 Limerick 267 BURNAND, F C. The Fisherman's Chant 251 CALVERLEY, C. S. A, B, C 38 Under the Trees 125 [283] A Whimsey Anthology CAMPKIN, H. PAGE Palindromes 93 CARROLL LEWIS The Tale of a Mouse v ... 29 The Mice 30 Acrostic 75 An Acrostic 76 Tema Con Variazioni 158 Echoes 177 Ye Carpette Knyghte 195 CARRYL, CHARLES E. Memorandums 41 A Ferry Tale 149 CARY, PHOEBE Ballad of the Canal 222 CHAMBERS, ROBERT WILLIAM The Recruit 252 CHARTIER, ALLAIN Un Cordier 122 CHENEY, JOHN VANCE The Kitchen Clock 248 CHRISTGAU, FERDINAND G Some Saintly Cities 263 COLLINS, MORTIMER Monorhymed Alphabet 40 COTTON, CHARLES ' The Joys of Marriage 119 DAVIES, SIR JOHN Acrostic 73 DEBURGH, H. J. Half Hours with the Classics 17 DICKENS, CHARLES Death of Little Nell 152 Song of the Kettle 154 DOBBIN, ORLANDO THOMAS My Manx Minx 135 DOBSON, AUSTIN Jocosa Lyra 145 The Rondeau 156 j The Triolet . . 160 DODGE, H. C. Bait of the Average Fisherman 25 [284] Index of Auth or s DODGE, MARY MAPES The Zealless Xylographer 52 FANSHAWE, CATHERINE Enigma on the Letter H 79 Enigma on the Letter I 81 FELLS, SIR PATRICK Bloom, Beauteous Blossoms 68 FIELD, EUGENE A Piazza. Tragedy 215 FITZGERALD. DR. A Rhyme for Tipperary 129 FORRESTER, ALFRED A. To My Nose 209 GIBSON, JAMES Y. Sonnet on the Sonnet 164 GILBERT, PAUL T. Triolet 159 GILBERT, W. S. The Mighty Must 225 Limerick 268 GOOGE, BARNABY Out of Sight, Out of Mind 169 GRAHAM, CAPTAIN HARRY A Border Ballad 196 HENLEY, W. E. The Triolet 159 Ballade 161 Villancllc 162 i h KFORD, OLIVER Japanesque 208 Limerick 266 HERRICK, ROBERT Five Wines 137 A Bacchanalian Toast 105 HOLMES, OLIVER WENDELL Estivation 187 HOOD, THOMAS The Ruling Power 126 A Nocturnal Sketch 140 The Double Knock 142 The Carelesse Nurse Mayd 196 [ 285 ] A Whimsey Anthology HOOD, THOMAS PAGE No! 254 HUNT, LEIGH Rondeau 166 IRWIN, WALLACE Song for a Cracked Voice . . . . . . . .150 JENNER, EDWARD Signs of Rain 112 JORDAN, THOMAS Particular Acrostic 78 KENDRICK, GREEN Very Felis-itous 186 KIPLING, RUDYARD Quaeritur 71 LAMB, CHARLES Acrostic ......73 LEAR, EDWARD An Animal Alphabet .........43 Limerick 268 LEIGH, HENRY S. Romantic Recollections 61 LEMKE, E. \ A Rhyme fotMusicians 109 LOOMIS, CHARLES\} ATTELL O-U-G-H. A Fresh Hack at an Old Knot ... 14 Lines on Rose 138 A Song of Sorrow 227 MANSFIELD, RICHARD Villikens 198 MAYHEW, HORACE Travesty of Miss Fanshawe's Enigma .... 80 MONKHOUSE, COSMO Limerick 266 MONTGOMERY, ALEXANDER The Cushat 70 MOTTEUX, PETER A. A Rondelay 163 , MUNKITTRICK, R. K. 'Tis Ever Thus no [286] Index of Authors O'KELLY, PATRICK PAGE The Doneraile Litany 132 PANNARD The Flagon 23 The Glass 24 PARKE, WALTER The Pearl of Palencia 1 1 PENNELL, H. CHOLMONDELEY- Waterloo Place 228 Lay of the Deserted Influenzaed 255 PlGOTT, MOSTYN T. The Hundred Best Books 106 POE, EDGAR ALLAN Peculiar Acrostic A Valentine 77 The Bells 239 PRAED, WINTHROP MACKWORTH Charade: Campbell 89 RHODES, HUGH Cautions 101 RICE, WALLACE A Rule of Three 104 ROCHE, JAMES JEFFREY A Concord Love-Song 226 ROSE, RAY CLARKE Simple English 124 Ross, ISAAC All the Same in the End 228 ROSSETTI, CHRISTINA G. Lady Moon 96 SAXE, JOHN G. Sonnet to a Clam 165 Echo 183 The Briefless Barrister 205 SEWARD, ANNA An Unsolved Enigma 82 SKEAT, MR. The Letter H's Protest to the Cockneys . . . . 81 SLEAT, WALTER W. Villanelle 155 SMITH, JAMES A Trip to Paris 146 [287] A Whimsey Anthology SOUTHEY, ROBERT PAC The Cataract of Lodore 24 STANFORD, W. " Queries" STEPHEN, J. K. Triolets Ollendorffiens 20 Ode on the 45oth Anniversary Celebration at Eton . 23 SWINBURNE, A. C. The Roundel 15 TRAILL, H. D. After Dilettante Concetti 21- WALLIS, DR. The Twiner 12. WELLS, CAROLYN One Week i2< From Vivette's "Milkmaid" IQ( Limericks 26, WILSON, MCLANDBURGH Jones's Ride 3< YRIARTE, TOMASO DE The Musical Ass 12' [288] THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW AN INITIAL PINE OF 25 CENTS WILL BE ASSESSED FOR FAILURE TO RETURN THIS BOOK ON THE DATE DUE. THE PENALTY WILL INCREASE TO SO CENTS ON THE FOURTH DAY AND TO $1.OO ON THE SEVENTH DAY OVERDUE. JUL 30 1940 KtC O UD nCt ** JUL 2 6-65 .? m \) V Ji; '' 23 194T ii: - ' .. . . MAY 12 1342 RECEIVE.U MAY 23 }tC b'68-H)AM . <-. . ^ I r"MTDT LOAN Dt.r p i J5 Mar'52Ai APR 3107006 JMAY8 2 1952 LU 2&Mar'58CS C ' ' O ' tei 27 In i' " 4K>v> ^ YB 72568 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY