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قراءة كتاب Hoosier Lyrics
تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"
and Frederick and Jim, one day,
Set out in a great big ship—
Steamed to the ocean down to the bay
Out of a New York slip.
"Where are you going and what is your game?"
The people asked to those three.
"Darned, if we know; but all the same
Happy as larks are we;
And happier still we're going to be!"
Said Lyman
And Frederick
And Jim.
The people laughed "Aha, oho!
Oho, aha!" laughed they;
And while those three went sailing so
Some pirates steered that way.
The pirates they were laughing, too—
The prospect made them glad;
But by the time the job was through
Each of them pirates bold and bad,
Had been done out of all he had
By Lyman
And Frederick
And Jim.
Days and weeks and months they sped,
Painting that foreign clime
A beautiful, bright vermillion red—
And having a — of a time!
'Twas all so gaudy a lark, it seemed,
As if it could not be,
And some folks thought it a dream they dreamed
Of sailing that foreign sea,
But I'll identify you these three—
Lyman
And Frederick
And Jim.
Lyman and Frederick are bankers and sich
And Jim is an editor kind;
The first two named are awfully rich
And Jim ain't far behind!
So keep your eyes open and mind your tricks,
Or you are like to be
In quite as much of a Tartar fix
As the pirates that sailed the sea
And monkeyed with the pardners three,
Lyman
And Frederick
And Jim.
A WAIL.
CLENDENIN'S LAMENT.
| While bridal knots are being tied And bridal meats are being basted, I shiver in the cold outside And pine for joys I've never tasted. Oh, what's a nomination worth, When you have labored months to get it If, all at once, with heartless mirth, The cruel senator's upset it? Fate weaves me such a toilsome way, My modest wisdom may not ken it— But, all the same, a plague I say Upon that stingy, hostile senate! |
ON THE WEDDING OF G. C.
(June 2, 1886.)
TO G. C.
(July 12, 1886.)
| They say our president has stuck Above his good wife's door The sign provocative of luck— A horseshoe—nothing more. Be hushed, O party hates, the while That emblem lingers there, And thou, dear fates, propitious smile Upon the wedded pair. I've tried the horseshoe's weird intent And felt its potent joy— God bless you, Mr. President, And may it be a boy. |
TO DR. F. W. R.
| If I were rich enough to buy A case of wine (though I abhor it), I'd send a quart of extra dry And willingly get trusted for it. But, lackaday! You know that I'm As poor as Job's historic turkey— In lieu of Mumm, accept this rhyme, An honest gift though somewhat jerky. This |