قراءة كتاب An Alphabet of History
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BRUTUS
Back in the time of Rome sublime,
There lived great Julius Cæsar
Who wore the crown with haughty frown
And was a frosty geezer.
There lived great Julius Cæsar
Who wore the crown with haughty frown
And was a frosty geezer.
Three times, they say, upon the way
Called Lupercal, they fetched it
For him to wear, but then and there
He said they should have stretched it.
Called Lupercal, they fetched it
For him to wear, but then and there
He said they should have stretched it.
And we are told that Jule was cold
And frigid as Alaska,
Ambitious, too,—that would not do
For Cassius and Casca.
And frigid as Alaska,
Ambitious, too,—that would not do
For Cassius and Casca.
They told their friends: "It all depends
On having things to suit us.
We think that Jule is much too cool;
Let us conspire with Brutus."
On having things to suit us.
We think that Jule is much too cool;
Let us conspire with Brutus."
They furthermore let out this roar:
"Shall Cæsar further scoff us?
Next week, they say, he'll have his way
About the Rome postoffice."
"Shall Cæsar further scoff us?
Next week, they say, he'll have his way
About the Rome postoffice."
With dirk and sword in togas stored—
You know those times they wore 'em—
They made a muss of Ju-li-us
One morning in the Forum.
You know those times they wore 'em—
They made a muss of Ju-li-us
One morning in the Forum.
With "Et tu, Brute?" J. C. grew mute.
(Some claim it's "Et tu, Bru-te";
We mention it both whole and split
As is our bounden duty.)
(Some claim it's "Et tu, Bru-te";
We mention it both whole and split
As is our bounden duty.)
Mark Antony arose, and he
Talked some,—we shall not quote it;
We've understood 'twas not as good
As when Bill Shakespeare wrote it.
Talked some,—we shall not quote it;
We've understood 'twas not as good
As when Bill Shakespeare wrote it.
Then Brutus skipped lest he be nipped—
And since his dissolution
He's been accused and much abused
In schools of elocution.
And since his dissolution
He's been accused and much abused
In schools of elocution.
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS
When Christopher Columbus stood the egg upon its end,
He solved a weighty problem that no one could comprehend—
Perhaps it was the puzzle whose solution clearly showed
The psychologic motives of the hen that crossed the road.
Perhaps cold storage minstrels never might have heard of this
If it hadn't been for Chris.
He solved a weighty problem that no one could comprehend—
Perhaps it was the puzzle whose solution clearly showed
The psychologic motives of the hen that crossed the road.
Perhaps cold storage minstrels never might have heard of this
If it hadn't been for Chris.
Columbus packed his little grip and got upon the train
And went to see that noble man, King Ferdinand of Spain.
Result: He found America—oh, do not idly nod,
For if it hadn't been for this we couldn't go abroad!
Just think of all the travel and the voyages we'd miss
If it hadn't been for Chris.
And went to see that noble man, King Ferdinand of Spain.
Result: He found America—oh, do not idly nod,
For if it hadn't been for this we couldn't go abroad!
Just think of all the travel and the voyages we'd miss
If it hadn't been for Chris.
Columbus found America and won a lot of fame—
Nobody ever thought to ask him how he knew its name;
Nobody ever booked him for some lectures to declare
In eloquent assertions how he knew the land was there.
Today we might be savages, unknowing modern bliss,
If it hadn't been for Chris.
Nobody ever thought to ask him how he knew its name;
Nobody ever booked him for some lectures to declare
In eloquent assertions how he knew the land was there.
Today we might be savages, unknowing modern bliss,
If it hadn't been for Chris.
He landed near Havana, and he said: "It seems to me
That sometime in the future little Cuby shall be free."
His vision was prophetic—far adown the future's track
He saw the dauntless Hobson and the sinking Merrimac.
We might have still been tyros in the ethics of the kiss
If it hadn't been for Chris.
That sometime in the future little Cuby shall be free."
His vision was prophetic—far adown the future's track
He saw the dauntless Hobson and the sinking Merrimac.
We might have still been tyros in the ethics of the kiss
If it hadn't been for Chris.
Today there are big cities and big buildings named for him,
And yet he was so poor that once he thought he'd have to swim
To find this wondrous country, for he was so badly broke;
But Isabella nobly put her watch and ring in soak.
Who knows but Isabella never might have thought of this
If it hadn't been for Chris?
And yet he was so poor that once he thought he'd have to swim
To find this wondrous country, for he was so badly broke;
But Isabella nobly put her watch and ring in soak.
Who knows but Isabella never might have thought of this
If it hadn't been for Chris?
DIOGENES
Diogenes lived in a tub
His fellows analyzing;
These words were carved upon his club:
"First Class Philosophizing."
If any question came his way
Involving people's morals,
The things that he felt moved to say
Were sure to start some quarrels.
In fact, his tub became a booth
In which he dealt in wholesale truth.
His fellows analyzing;
These words were carved upon his club:
"First Class Philosophizing."
If any question came his way
Involving people's morals,
The things that he felt moved to say
Were sure to start some quarrels.
In fact, his tub became a booth
In which he dealt in wholesale truth.
This world was but a fleeting show—
He knew a lot about it;
When he was told a thing was so
He then began to doubt it.
He seldom left his narrow home—
Not even on a Sunday;
The only time that he would roam
Abroad was on a Monday.
He had to roam then, anyway,
For that, you know, is washing day.
He knew a lot about it;
When he was told a thing was so
He then began to doubt it.
He seldom left his narrow home—
Not even on a Sunday;
The only time that he would roam
Abroad was on a Monday.
He had to roam then, anyway,
For that, you know, is washing day.
Society, with all its sham,
Gave him a paroxysm;
He always spoke in epigram
And thought in aphorism.
One day he took his lantern down
And polished it and lit it—
But first he frowned a peevish frown
And growled: "The wick don't fit it."
And then, with pessimistic scan,
He sought to find an honest man.
Gave him a paroxysm;
He always spoke in epigram
And thought in aphorism.
One day he took his lantern down
And polished it and lit it—
But first he frowned a peevish frown
And growled: "The wick don't fit it."
And then, with pessimistic scan,
He sought to find an honest man.
Diogenes has long been dead;
His search was not well heeded,
For no historian has said
If ever he succeeded.
But there's this thought for you and me:
It would not be quite pleasant
If on that quest the sage should be
With his fierce
His search was not well heeded,
For no historian has said
If ever he succeeded.
But there's this thought for you and me:
It would not be quite pleasant
If on that quest the sage should be
With his fierce
