THE COURTSHIP OF THE YONGHY-BONGHY-BÒ.
I.
On the Coast of Coromandel
Where the early pumpkins blow, In the middle of the woods Lived the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò. Two old chairs, and half a candle,
One old jug without a handle,—
These were all his worldly goods: In the middle of the woods, These were all the worldly goods Of the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò, Of the Yonghy-Bonghy Bò.
II.
Once, among the Bong-trees walking
Where the early pumpkins blow, To a little heap of stones Came the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò. There he heard a Lady talking,
To some milk-white Hens of Dorking,—
"'Tis the Lady Jingly Jones! On that little heap of stones Sits the Lady Jingly Jones!" Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò, Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.
III.
"Lady Jingly! Lady Jingly!
Sitting where the pumpkins blow, Will you come and be my wife?" Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò. "I am tired of living singly"—
On this coast so wild and shingly,—
I'm a-weary of my life; If you'll come and be my wife, Quite serene would be my life!" Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò, Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.
IV.
"On this Coast of Coromandel
Shrimps and watercresses grow, Prawns are plentiful and cheap," Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò. "You shall have my chairs and candle,
And my jug without a handle!
Gaze upon the rolling deep (Fish is plentiful and cheap); As the sea, my love is deep!" Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò, Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.
V.
Lady Jingly answered sadly,
And her tears began to flow,— "Your proposal comes too late, Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò! I would be your wife most gladly!"
(Here she twirled her fingers madly,)
"But in England I've a mate! Yes! you've asked me far too late, For in England I've a mate, Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò! Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò!
VI.
"Mr. Jones (his name is Handel,—
Handel Jones, Esquire, & Co.) Dorking fowls delights to send, Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò! Keep, oh, keep your chairs and candle,
And your jug without a handle,—
I can merely be your friend! Should my Jones more Dorkings send, I will give you three, my friend! Mr. Yonghy-Bongy-Bò! Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò!
VII.
"Though you've such a tiny body,
And your head so large doth grow,— Though your hat may blow away, Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò! Though you're such a Hoddy Doddy,
Yet I wish that I could modi-
fy the words I needs must say! Will you please to go away? That is all I have to say, Mr. Yongby-Bonghy-Bò! Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò!"
VIII.
Down the slippery slopes of Myrtle,
Where the early pumpkins blow, To the calm and silent sea Fled the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò. There, beyond the Bay of Gurtle,
Lay a large and lively Turtle.
"You're the Cove," he said, "for me; On your back beyond the sea, Turtle, you shall carry me!" Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò, Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.
IX.
Through the silent-roaring ocean
Did the Turtle swiftly go; Holding fast upon his shell Rode the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò. With a sad primaeval motion
Towards the sunset isles of Boshen
Still the Turtle bore him well. Holding fast upon his shell, "Lady Jingly Jones, farewell!" Sang the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò, Sang the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.
X.
From the Coast of Coromandel
Did that Lady never go; On that heap of stones she mourns For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò. On that Coast of Coromandel,
In his jug without a handle
Still she weeps, and daily moans; On that little heap of stones To her Dorking Hens she moans, For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò, For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.
