A HUMPTY-DUMPTY IDIOTIC CHAP.
There was once a little humpty-dumpty idiotic chap,
Who had both a mug an’ muzzle most remarkable to see.
An’ he couldn’t do a solitary thing but grin an’ gap,
But he done that simply awful an’ he done it constantly.
His tater head was sorto’ meller like a punkin over-ripe
An’ his yaller face was puckered like a lemon with the gripe;
An’ his front teeth like stalites—or what you call ’em—always gave
To the cavity behind them the appearance of a cave,—
Jist forever an’ forever from life’s earliest beginnin’
Simply nachelly a-grinnin’ an’ a-grinnin an’ a-grinnin’.
Well, you see, he couldn’t help it, couldn’t help it not a bit,
’Cause for some peculiar reason he was born jist that-a-way.
An’ if Nater marks a feller he had better jist submit,
’Cause she wants that mark for somepm, an’ she’s goin to have it stay.
Caint no doctor make a rose-bud of a busted-thistle mouth,
Nor he caint turn north a foot that’s got to growin’ sorto’ south.
Spect this chap inside him knowed it wa’n’t no earthly kind o’ use
To be squeezin’ on a lemon that didn’t have a bit o’ juice;
—Maybe ’lowed his ugly mug ’ould be a doin’ less of sinnin’
If he’d leave it jist a-grinnin’ an’ a-grinnin’ an’ a-grinnin’.
’Course he didn’t reason on it, cause he didn’t have no sense;
But I kindo’ sorto’ reckon that he done like others do—
Jist set down up where he’d clum on top o’ Nater’s ol worm-fence
An’ let the sun bile down onto him an’ soak him clean plum thro’ an’ thro’
While with busy boom an’ buzz the plunder’n’ bug an’ bumble-bee
Went a-nosin’ thro’ the clover where the rosy-posies be.
An’ with one eye squinted up an’ t’other squinted down plum shet,
Up on top the fence, I spect, twixt brute an’ human there he set,
An’ jist let the whirly-gigy world whirl off its spindle spinnin’
While he joyed hisself a-grinnin’ an’ a-grinnin’ an’ a-grinnin’.
Hope he did enjoy hisself, ’cause he didn’t have enough
Sense to know what trouble was,—he was a idiotic chap.
An’ he couldn’t tell to save him if a voice was soft or gruff
For he couldn’t talk, nor hear, nor—nothin’ only grin an’ gap.
An’ his eyes that kept a winkin an’ a squintin up an’ down
Never let the glorious sunlight paint no picter in his crown.
Plum stone deef an’ dumb an’ blind—a hunch-backed idiot at that!
Oh ’t’ould ’most-a broke your heart, as mine, to see him sittin’ flat
On the floor in sich an awful fix as he was dyin’ in an’
Rockin back an’ forth, a-grinnin’ an’ a-grinnin’ an’ a-grinnin’.
GOOD-NIGHT.
A SONG OF THE CLOSE OF LIFE.
Infant.
Good-night, good-night!—the brightest day must fall,
The sweetest joys, alas! must fade the sight;
Sad Night shall weep her silent tears o’er all—
Good-night, good-night, sweet babe, good-night.
Child.
The day has kissed thy happy heart to sleep
And left thy lips apart in sweet delight;
But oh the Night, I know, must slowly creep—
Good-night, good-night, my child, good-night.
Youth.
Good-night, good-night!—thy care and day is done.
The stars thy camp, the Deity thy light,
Thy soldier hand and heart at rest sleep on,—
Good-night, good-night, my boy, good-night!
Man.
Or griefs or joys thy lot, the past be past!—
The star of hope is on the mountain height,
For sun and life must sleep and rise at last,—
Good-night, good-night, worn heart, good-night.
All.
Good-night, Sad Heart, to Light and Darkness born!
The sun is sunk—but Stars and Hope are bright;—
And all that sleep at night will wake at Morn!—
Good-night, good-night, Dear Heart, good-night!