Shake, shake, shake,
In thy shoes, O unfortunate Boy,
For you've somehow managed to break
Your Mistress's best Teapoy!
O well for the lazy cook,
Who sleeps in the kitchen all day;
O well for the horse-keeper's wife,
Who snores, with her head in the hay.
And the laden bandies jog on,
With their bullocks sweating in pairs—
But O, who will mend the teapoy again,
Or pay for the needful repairs?
Quake, quake, quake!
O Boy, thy howls shall be vain,
For each tender part of thy body shall smart
To-night, from thy Master's cane!
The Poet's Mistake
"O grim and ghastly Mussulman,
Why art thou wailing so?
Is there a pain within thy brain,
Or in thy little toe?
The twilight shades are shutting fast
The golden gates of Day,
Then shut up, too, your hullabaloo,—-
Or what's the matter, say!"
That stern and sombre Mussulman,
He heeded not my speech,
But raised again his howl of pain,—
A most unearthly screech!
"He dies!"—I thought, and forthwith rushed
To aid the wretched man,
When, with a shout, he yell'd—"Get out!
I'm singing the Koran!"
The Griffin's Love Song
(Air:—"Come into the Garden, Maud.")
Come into the pawnee, love,
For the dark pagodas have flown,
Come into the pawnee, love,
I am here at the dhoby alone;
And the catamarans are wafted abroad,
And the musk of the Tahsildar blown.