The Book of Humorous Verse - BestLightNovel.com
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rank poisons _wines!!!_ For Summer's {last roses} lie hid in the {wines} stable-boys smoking long-nines That were garnered by {maidens who laughed through the vines}, scowl howl scoff sneer Then a {smile}, and a {gla.s.s}, and a {toast}, and a {cheer}, strychnine and whiskey, and ratsbane and beer For {all the good wine, and we've some of it here}!
In cellar, in pantry, in attic, in hall, Down, down with the tyrant that masters us all!
{Long live the gay servant that laughs for us all!}
_Oliver Wendell Holmes._
[Transcriber's note: The words in {braces} are struck out in the original text with alternatives above.]
THE JOVIAL PRIEST'S CONFESSION
TRANSLATED FROM THE LATIN OF WALTER DE MAPES, TIME OF HENRY II
I devise to end my days--in a tavern drinking, May some Christian hold for me--the gla.s.s when I am shrinking, That the cherubim may cry--when they see me sinking, G.o.d be merciful to a soul--of this gentleman's way of thinking.
A gla.s.s of wine amazingly--enlighteneth one's internals; 'Tis wings bedewed with nectar--that fly up to supernals; Bottles cracked in taverns--have much the sweeter kernels, Than the sups allowed to us--in the college journals.
Every one by nature hath--a mold which he was cast in; I happen to be one of those--who never could write fasting; By a single little boy--I should be surpa.s.s'd in Writing so: I'd just as lief--be buried; tomb'd and gra.s.s'd in.
Every one by nature hath--a gift too, a dotation: I, when I make verses--do get the inspiration Of the very best of wine--that comes into the nation: It maketh sermons to astound--for edification.
Just as liquor floweth good--floweth forth my lay so; But I must moreover eat--or I could not say so; Naught it availeth inwardly--should I write all day so; But with G.o.d's grace after meat--I beat Ovidius Naso.
Neither is there given to me--prophetic animation, Unless when I have eat and drank--yea, ev'n to saturation, Then in my upper story--hath Bacchus domination, And Ph[oe]bus rushes into me, and beggareth all relation.
_Leigh Hunt._
LIMERICKS
There was an old man of Tobago, Who lived upon rice, gruel and sago; Till, much to his bliss, His physician said this: "To a leg, sir, of mutton, you may go."
There was an old soldier of Bister, Went walking one day with his sister; When a cow, at one poke, Tossed her into an oak, Before the old gentleman missed her.
There was a young man of St. Kitts Who was very much troubled with fits; The eclipse of the moon Threw him into a swoon, When he tumbled and broke into bits.
There was an old man who said, "Gee!
_I_ can't multiply seven by three!
Though fourteen seems plenty, It _might_ come to twenty,-- I haven't the slightest idee!"
There was an old man in a pie, Who said, "I must fly! I must fly!"
When they said, "You can't do it!"
He replied that he knew it, But he _had_ to get out of that pie!
A Tutor who tooted the flute Tried to teach two young tooters to toot; Said the two to the Tutor, "Is it harder to toot, or To tutor two tooters to toot?"
_Carolyn Wells._
RECITED BY A CHINESE INFANT
If-itty-tes.h.i.+-mow Jays Haddee ny up-plo-now-s.h.i.+-buh nays; ha! ha!
He lote im aw dow, Witty motti-fy flow; A-flew-ty ho-lot-itty flays! Hee!
_Translation_
Infinitesimal James Had nine unp.r.o.nounceable names; He wrote them all down, With a mortified frown, And threw the whole lot in the flames.
For beauty I am not a star, There are others more handsome by far; But my face I don't mind it, For I am behind it, It's the people in front that I jar.
There was a young lady of Oakham, Who would steal your cigars and then soak 'em In treacle and rum, And then smear them with gum, So it wasn't a pleasure to smoke 'em.
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; When asked, "Don't they tear?"
He replied, "Here and there; But they keep such a beautiful shape."
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._