“My customers demand them, their fame rings near and far,
But then, alas, the trouble is, I don’t know what they are.
Though I could carve a Venus or a Belvedere with ease,
My wondrous skill is lacking when it comes to carving these.
“I cast and cut and chisel, I model and I mould,
I copy poses picturesque from studies new and old;
In marble, bronze, and potter’s clay, in wax and wood and stone
I carve the old-time statues with improvements of my own.
“I have Apollo on a horse, Minerva on a wheel,
Hercules going fishing with his basket and his creel.
A Mercury on roller-skates, Diana with a hat,
And Venus playing tennis with Achilles at the bat.
“Yet these my customers pass by, and ask with interest keen,
For things with long and tiresome names,—I don’t know
what they mean.
And so I let my hammers hang, and let my chisels rust,
For I cannot do an anaglyptic ceroplastic bust.”
A Tragic Tale of Tea
The Beetle was blind, and the Bat was blinder,
And they went to take tea with the Scissors-grinder.
The Scissors-grinder had gone away
Across the ocean to spend the day;
But he’d tied his bell to the grapevine swing.
The Bat and the Beetle heard it ring,
And neither the Beetle nor Bat could see
Why no one offered them any tea.
So, polite and patient, they’re waiting yet
For the cup of tea they expect to get.