A LEAP-YEAR BALL AT LINGWICK
——————
The night before last Hallowe'en
Tho' wet as any ever seen,
Must henceforth mark a date supreme
In Lingwick's social lore.
As on that eve the ladies all
Came forth to give their leap-year ball—
And long ere ten the dancing hall
Was crowded to the door.
Since Scottish heroes sang duans
Upon the field of Prestonpans,
So fine a gathering of the clans
Was surely never seen.
And brilliant Byron's "ladies fair"
Who danced in Belgium's balmy air
Could never with our girls compare
In beauty's realm, I ween.
Were I a Burns I'd sing their praise
In grateful sympathetic lays,
And tell them how a bard repays
The smiles on him bestowed.
O! for a pure poetic drift,
Or bard McRitchie's splendid gift,
To give those charming girls a lift
On chummy Hymen's road.
Since first the red man trod those lands,
In happy, reckless, roving bands,
Where now the town of Lingwick stands,
Until the present time.
No festal scene deserved such note,
Of such a scene no poet wrote,
Tho' painted with a double coat
Of stirring prose or rhyme.
The lively Galson girls were there,
With dancing eyes and wavy hair,
And roses stamped by caller air
On every blooming cheek.
And other ladies, fair and bright,
Who live near by, were there that night,
Contributing the keen delight
Of beauty, so to speak.
Oh bachelors, how sweet to glide
With such bright charmers by one's side!
And ev'ry heart a surging tide
Of leap-year sentiment!
You might perambulate around
Until you'd hear the trumpet sound—
No better quarters could be found
To pitch your earthly tent.
At 12 o'clock the ladies came
And took each blushing(?) humbled swain
Across the road, where Eddie's dame
Had placed a royal feast.
Each charmer paid (alas how rare!)
Her own and hungry fellow's fare,
And splendid food was furnished there
For o'er an hour at least.
We must congratulate each belle
From mountain, vale and Fisher Hill,
Who paid her leap-year tax so well
Last Friday night at Gould.
Had we our wish we'd gladly call
Twice yearly for a leap-year ball,
For surely we were happy all
The while the women ruled.
And we beseech you throw your charms
Around the lonely mountain farms,
Where bachelors are up in arms
Against your luring spell.
Fan to a flame the sluggish smoke,
Place Gibourd in a double yoke,
And give friend Finlay Ian a poke
To keep him hale and well.
Dear girls, keep up your enterprise
And dazzle all those "bache's" eyes,
Before the present leap-year dies
And robs you of your rights.
Take pity on the lonely men
From "Midnight" to big corner "Ken,"
Or later on "it might have been"
Will rob your sleep o' nights.
The 'legibles we'll briefly scan:
There's Merchant Donald B. Buchan,
Who is a dear, good-natured man,
And not too old to mend;
And Layfield, too, by George! you bet,
A closer friend it's hard to get—
Besiege their hearts, they're both to let,
And bliss will rule the end.
And finally O'Norman "Hoe",
Can Cupid's dart e'er conquer you,
And penetrate your bosom through
To kindle there a flame?
Shall living mortal ever see
A bouncing baby on your knee
Whose lisping tones will add with glee
"Papa" unto your name.
HOLY WILLIE'S PRAYER
Or
THE HOLLERIN' HOHENZOLLERIN
——————
Dear Gott! der weight of "right divine"
Iss on my shoulters heavy yet;
Und worries grow for me und mine
For fear our thrones should be upset.
Democracy disturbs my dreams
Und leaves Thy Villiam veak und vorn;
Der worldt iss upsite down, it seems,
Since Chermany was made to mourn.
Ve deemed der throne of "Nick" secure
From Gottless hordes who scheme and scoff;
But foes of mineund Thine, impure,
Rebelled und bowled der Romanoff!
Und also Greece went on der skids,
For Constantine, my Constantine!
Und other kinks may lose their lids
Till all are gone safe mine und Thine!
If von by von ve lose our crown
My schemes on earth vill be upset;
Und Gott! if Ireland turns us down
Ve're in der soup alretty yet!
Der Yankees, too, are now in France,
To aid der hateful Philistine,
Und swear they'll make der Kaiser dance
Der Turkey trot across der Rhine!
(Aside)
Yes, I vill dance und I vill trot,
Der Shottiss und der minuet,
But, by der power of "Me und Gott"
U. Sam vill pay der piper yet!
Gott, I've been faithful to my trust
Since Thou dids't place me on der throne;
My sword wass neffer known to rust
Vile it coult yet extract a groan.
Wheneffer yet I drew dot sword
To make der helpless victim bleed,
I alvays called upon der Lort
To guide my arm und bless der deed!
I sink der ships on all der seas,
My submarines are on der chob!
Despairing cries invade der breeze
Und music's in der dying sob!
I rain der pombs from oudt der sky,
On schools and hospitals below;
Der vimmen und der chiltren die—
For thus do ve reduce der foe!
Lort help me mit my war to prove
To all der swine as they shoult know,
Thou are der ruler up above
Und I am ruler down below!
I am der Moses as of oldt,
I smite der heathen hip and thigh—
Lort send me Aaron yet to holdt
Thy fainting servant's handts on high!
On Gideon still holdt der sun—
Thou dids't for "Josh" in years agone;
Und let der melancholy moon
Still flood der vale of Ajalon!
(Aside)
O Chermany! dear Chermany!
Der Lort of Hosts vill see you through!
Ve are der chosen people ve,
Und not der Scotch or cunning Jew!
Vonce, Lort, Thou knowest ve vere chums,
Und everything did come my vay;
But now Thou'rt turning down der thumbs,
No matter how so loudt I bray!
Remember, Chermany's Thy friendt;
Upholdt it, Lort, for our dear sake;
Der line of Hintenburg is bent—
O help us, Gott, before it break!
I'm trusting in Thine aid divine,
Und bray und fight mit shot and shell,
But Himmel fails to hold der line
Against Canucks dot fight like hell!
I bray at morning, bray at night,
Und bray at noon ven it is hot;
But Gott is keeping oudt of sight—
He answers not, He answers not!
O! can it be, as scoffers say,
Der race iss for der von who runs?
Und dot no matter how ve bray
Der Lort is mit der biggest guns?
If so it be, then all iss lost;
Farewell, farewell, dear Chermany!
Lloyd Chorge can figure up der cost
And charge it all to Gott und me!
HOW WE SETTLED THE ALASKAN
BOUNDARY QUESTION
These lines were penned long before the breaking out of the present great war. Note the remarkable spirit of prophesy which pervaded the poem, especially its allusion to the Armenians.