قراءة كتاب Ruthless Rhymes for Heartless Homes
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اللغة: English
الصفحة رقم: 10
. . .
Don't tell a lie! Some men I've known
Commit the most appalling acts,
Because they happen to be prone
To an economy of facts;
And if to lie is bad, no doubt
'Tis even worse to get found out!
Commit the most appalling acts,
Because they happen to be prone
To an economy of facts;
And if to lie is bad, no doubt
'Tis even worse to get found out!
. . . . .
Don't take the life of any one,
However horrid he may be;
That sort of thing is never done,
Not in the best society,
Where even parricide is thought
A most unfilial kind of sport.
Among the "Upper Ten" to-day,
It is considered want of tact
To slay one's kith and kin, and may
Be classed as an "unfriendly act."
Oh, yes, of course I know that this
Is merely public prejudice.
However horrid he may be;
That sort of thing is never done,
Not in the best society,
Where even parricide is thought
A most unfilial kind of sport.
Among the "Upper Ten" to-day,
It is considered want of tact
To slay one's kith and kin, and may
Be classed as an "unfriendly act."
Oh, yes, of course I know that this
Is merely public prejudice.
"Or empty beetles in her bath!"But ever since the world began,
Howe'er well meant his motives are,
The man who slays his fellow man
Is never really popular,
Whether he sins from love of crime,
Or merely just to pass the time.
Envoi
SPEED, Ruthless Rhymes; throughout the land
Disperse yourselves with patient zeal!
Go, perch upon the Critic's hand,
Just after he has had a meal.
But should he still unkindly be,
Unperch and hasten back to me.
And, wheresoever you may roam,
Remember the secluded shelf
(Where, sitting in his Heartless Home,
The author chortles to himself),
There, in the distant by-and-bye,
You still may flutter back—to die.
Disperse yourselves with patient zeal!
Go, perch upon the Critic's hand,
Just after he has had a meal.
But should he still unkindly be,
Unperch and hasten back to me.
And, wheresoever you may roam,
Remember the secluded shelf
(Where, sitting in his Heartless Home,
The author chortles to himself),
There, in the distant by-and-bye,
You still may flutter back—to die.
