THE DREAM
In fighting with a robber band
(A thing he loved sincerely)
A sword struck Gibbs upon the hand
And wounded it severely.
At first he didn't heed it much,
He thought it was a simple touch,
But soon he found the weapon's bound
Had wounded him severely.
To Surgeon Cobb he made a trip,
Who'd just effected featly
An amputation at the hip
Particularly neatly.
A rising man was Surgeon Cobb,
But this extremely ticklish job
He had achieved (as he believed)
Particularly neatly.
The actor rang the surgeon's bell.
"Observe my wounded finger:
Be good enough to strap it well,
And prithee do not linger,
That I, dear sir, may fill again
The Theatre Royal, Drury Lane
This very night I have to fight—
So prithee do not linger."
"I don't strap fingers up for doles,"
Replied the haughty surgeon;
"To use your cant, I don't play rôles
'Utility' that verge on.
'First amputation'—nothing less—
That is my line of business:
We surgeon nobs despise all jobs
Utility that verge on.
"When in your hip there lurks disease"
(So dreamt this lively dreamer),
"Or devastating caries
In humerus or femur,
If you can pay a handsome fee,
Oh, then you may remember me,
With joy elate I'll amputate
Your humerus or femur."
The disconcerted actor ceased
The haughty leech to pester,
But when the wound in size increased,
And then began to fester,
He sought a learned Counsel's lair,
And told that Counsel, then and there,
How Cobb's neglect of his defect
Had made his finger fester.
"Oh, bring my action, if you please,
The case I pray you urge on,
And win me thumping damages
From Cobb, that haughty surgeon.
He culpably neglected me
Although I proffered him his fee,
So pray come down, in wig and gown,
On Cobb that haughty surgeon!"
That Counsel, learned in the laws,
With passion almost trembled,
He just had gained a mighty cause
Before the Peers assembled!
Said he, "How dare you have the face
To come with Common Jury case
To one who wings rhetoric flings
Before the Peers assembled?"
Dispirited became our friend—
Depressed his moral pecker—
"But stay! a thought! I'll gain my end,
And save my poor exchequer.
I won't be placed upon the shelf,
I'll take it into Court myself,
And legal lore display before
The Court of the Exchequer."
He found a Baron—one of those
Who with our laws supply us—
In wig and silken gown and hose,
As if at Nisi Prius.
But he'd just given, off the reel,
A famous judgment on Appeal:
It scarce became his heightened fame
To sit at Nisi Prius.
Our friend began, with easy wit,
That half concealed his terror:
"Pooh!" said the Judge, "I only sit
In Banco or in Error.
Can you suppose, my man, that I'd
O'er Nisi Prius Courts preside,
Or condescend my time to spend
On anything but Error?"
"Too bad," said Gibbs, "my case to shirk!
You must be bad innately,
To save your skill for mighty work
Because it's valued greatly!"
But here he woke, with sudden start.
He wrote to say he'd play the part.
I've but to tell he played it well—
The author's words—his native wit
Combined, achieved a perfect "hit"—
The papers praised him greatly.
[WILLOW WALY!]
He.Prithee, pretty maiden—prithee, tell me true
(Hey, but I'm doleful, willow, willow waly!)
Have you e'er a lover a-dangling after you?
Hey, willow waly O!
I would fain discover
If you have a lover?
Hey, willow waly O!
She.Gentle sir, my heart is frolicsome and free—
(Hey, but he's doleful, willow, willow waly!)
Nobody I care for comes a-courting me—
Hey, willow waly O!
Nobody I care for
Comes a-courting—therefore,
Hey, willow waly O!
He.Prithee, pretty maiden, will you marry me?
(Hey, but I'm hopeful, willow, willow waly!)
I may say, at once, I'm a man of propertee—
Hey, willow waly O!
Money, I despise it,
But many people prize it,
Hey, willow waly O!
She.Gentle sir, although to marry I design—
(Hey, but he's hopeful, willow, willow waly!)
As yet I do not know you, and so I must decline.
Hey, willow waly O!
To other maidens go you—
As yet I do not know you,
Hey, willow waly O!
[THE TWO MAJORS]
An excellent soldier who's worthy the name,
Loves officers dashing and strict:
When good, he's content with escaping all blame,
When naughty, he likes to be licked.
He likes for a fault to be bullied and stormed,
Or imprisoned for several days;
And hates, for a duty correctly performed,
To be slavered with sickening praise.
No officer sickened with praises his corps
So little as Major La Guerre—
No officers swore at his warriors more
Than Major Makredi Prepere.
Their soldiers adored them, and every grade
Delighted to hear them abuse;
Though whenever these officers came on parade,
They shivered and shook in their shoes.
"No doubt we deserve it—no mercy we crave—
Go on—you're conferring a boon;
We would rather be slanged by a warrior brave
Than praised by a wretched poltroon!"
Makredi would say that in battle's fierce rage
True happiness only was met:
Poor Major Makredi, though fifty his age,
Had never known happiness yet!
La Guerre would declare, "With the blood of a foe
No tipple is worthy to clink."
Poor fellow! he hadn't, though sixty or so,
Yet tasted his favourite drink!
They agreed at their mess—they agreed in the glass—
They agreed in the choice of their "set,"
And they also agreed in adoring, alas!
The Vivandière, pretty Fillette.
Agreement, we know, may be carried too far,
And after agreeing all round
For years—in this soldierly "maid of the bar,"
A bone of contention they found.
"On the day that you marry her," muttered Prepere
(With a pistol he quietly played),
"I'll scatter the brains in your noddle, I swear,
All over the stony parade!"
"I cannot do that to you," answered La Guerre,
"Whatever events may befall;
But this I can do—if you wed her, mon cher!
I'll eat you, moustachios and all!
The rivals, although they would never engage,
Yet quarrelled whenever they met;
They met in a fury and left in a rage,
But neither took pretty Fillette.
"I am not afraid," thought Makredi Prepere:
"For my country I'm ready to fall;
But nobody wants, for a mere Vivandière,
To be eaten, moustachios and all!
"Besides, though La Guerre has his faults, I'll allow
He's one of the bravest of men:
My goodness! if I disagree with him now,
I might disagree with him then!"
"No coward am I," said La Guerre, "as you guess—
I sneer at an enemy's blade;
But I don't want Prepere to get into a mess
For splashing the stony parade!"
One day on parade to Prepere and La Guerre
Came Corporal Jacot Debette,
And, trembling all over, he prayed of them there
To give him the pretty Fillette.
"You see, I am willing to marry my bride
Until you've arranged this affair;
I will blow out my brains when your honours decide
Which marries the sweet Vivandière!"
"Well, take her," said both of them in a duet
(A favourite form of reply),
"But when I am ready to marry Fillette,
Remember you've promised to die!"
He married her then: from the flowery plains
Of existence the roses they cull:
He lived and he died with his wife; and his brains
Are reposing in peace in his skull.
[LIFE IS LOVELY ALL THE YEAR]
When the buds are blossoming,
Smiling welcome to the spring,
Lovers choose a wedding day—
Life is love in merry May!
Spring is green—Fal lal la!
Summer's rose—Fal lal la!
It is sad when Summer goes,
Fal la!
Autumn's gold—Fal lal la!
Winter's grey—Fal lal la!
Winter still is far away—
Fal la!
Leaves in Autumn fade and fall;
Winter is the end of all.
Spring and summer teem with glee:
Spring and summer, then, for me!
Fal la!
In the Spring-time seed is sown:
In the Summer grass is mown:
In the Autumn you may reap:
Winter is the time for sleep.
Spring is hope—Fal lal la!
Summer's joy—Fal lal la!
Spring and Summer never cloy,
Fal la!
Autumn, toil—Fal lal la!
Winter, rest—Fal lal la!
Winter, after all, is best—
Fal la!
Spring and summer pleasure you,
Autumn, ay, and winter, too—
Every season has its cheer;
Life is lovely all the year!
Fal la!
