TRANSLATED FROM THE LATIN OF WALTER DE MAPES, TIME OF HENRY II

I devise to end my days—in a tavern drinking, May some Christian hold for me—the glass when I am shrinking, That the cherubim may cry—when they see me sinking, God be merciful to a soul—of this gentleman's way of thinking. A glass of wine amazingly—enlighteneth one's internals; 'Tis wings bedewed with nectar—that fly up to supernals; Bottles cracked in taverns—have much the sweeter kernels, Than the sups allowed to us—in the college journals. Every one by nature hath—a mold which he was cast in; I happen to be one of those—who never could write fasting; By a single little boy—I should be surpass'd in Writing so: I'd just as lief—be buried; tomb'd and grass'd in. Every one by nature hath—a gift too, a dotation: I, when I make verses—do get the inspiration Of the very best of wine—that comes into the nation: It maketh sermons to astound—for edification. Just as liquor floweth good—floweth forth my lay so; But I must moreover eat—or I could not say so; Naught it availeth inwardly—should I write all day so; But with God's grace after meat—I beat Ovidius Naso. Neither is there given to me—prophetic animation, Unless when I have eat and drank—yea, ev'n to saturation, Then in my upper story—hath Bacchus domination, And Phœbus rushes into me, and beggareth all relation. Leigh Hunt.

LIMERICKS

There was an old man of Tobago,
Who lived upon rice, gruel and sago;
Till, much to his bliss,
His physician said this:
"To a leg, sir, of mutton, you may go."
There was an old soldier of Bister,
Went walking one day with his sister;
When a cow, at one poke,
Tossed her into an oak,
Before the old gentleman missed her.
There was a young man of St. Kitts
Who was very much troubled with fits;
The eclipse of the moon
Threw him into a swoon,
When he tumbled and broke into bits.
There was an old man who said, "Gee!
I can't multiply seven by three!
Though fourteen seems plenty,
It might come to twenty,—
I haven't the slightest idee!"

There was an old man in a pie,
Who said, "I must fly! I must fly!"
When they said, "You can't do it!"
He replied that he knew it,
But he had to get out of that pie!
A Tutor who tooted the flute
Tried to teach two young tooters to toot;
Said the two to the Tutor,
"Is it harder to toot, or
To tutor two tooters to toot?"
Carolyn Wells.
RECITED BY A CHINESE INFANT If-itty-teshi-mow Jays
Haddee ny up-plo-now-shi-buh nays;
ha! ha!
He lote im aw dow,
Witty motti-fy flow;
A-flew-ty ho-lot-itty flays! Hee!
Translation Infinitesimal James
Had nine unpronounceable names;
He wrote them all down,
With a mortified frown,
And threw the whole lot in the flames.
For beauty I am not a star,
There are others more handsome by far;
But my face I don't mind it,
For I am behind it,
It's the people in front that I jar.
There was a young lady of Oakham,
Who would steal your cigars and then soak 'em
In treacle and rum,
And then smear them with gum,
So it wasn't a pleasure to smoke 'em.
There was an Old Man in a tree
Who was horribly bored by a bee;
When they said, "Does it buzz?"
He replied, "Yes, it does!
It's a regular brute of a bee."
Edward Lear.
There was an Old Man of St. Bees
Who was stung in the arm by a wasp.
When asked, "Does it hurt?"
He replied, "No, it doesn't,
But I thought all the while 'twas a hornet."
W. S. Gilbert.
There was an old man of the Rhine,
When asked at what hour he would dine,
Replied, "At eleven,
Four, six, three and seven,
And eight and a quarter of nine."
There was a young man of Laconia,
Whose mother-in-law had pneumonia;
He hoped for the worst,
And after March first
They buried her 'neath a begonia.
There was a young man of the cape
Who always wore trousers of crêpe;
When asked, "Don't they tear?"
He replied, "Here and there;
But they keep such a beautiful shape."
There once were some learned M.D.'s,
Who captured some germs of disease,
And infected a train,
Which without causing pain,
Allowed one to catch it with ease.
Oliver Herford.
There was a young lady of Lynn,
Who was deep in original sin;
When they said, "Do be good,"
She said, "Would if I could!"
And straightway went at it ag'in.
I'd rather have fingers than toes;
I'd rather have ears than a nose;
And as for my hair
I'm glad it's all there,
I'll be awfully sad when it goes.
Gelett Burgess.
There was a young fellow named Clyde;
Who was once at a funeral spied.
When asked who was dead,
He smilingly said,
"I don't know,—I just came for the ride!"
There was a young lady of Truro,
Who wished a mahogany bureau;
But her father said, "Dod!
All the men on Cape Cod
Couldn't buy a mahogany bureau!"
There was a young man of Ostend
Who vowed he'd hold out to the end,
But when halfway over
From Calais to Dover,
He done what he didn't intend—
There was a young man of Cohoes,
Wore tar on the end of his nose;
When asked why he done it,
He said for the fun it
Afforded the men of Cohoes.
Robert J. Burdette.
There is a young artist called Whistler,
Who in every respect is a bristler;
A tube of white lead,
Or a punch on the head,
Come equally handy to Whistler.
Dante Gabriel Rossetti.
There is a creator named God,
Whose doings are sometimes quite odd;
He made a painter named Val,
And I say and I shall,
That he does no great credit to God.
J. M. Whistler.
There was a young lady of station,
"I love man!" was her sole exclamation;
But when men cried, "You flatter!"
She replied, "Oh, no matter!
Isle of Man, is the true explanation."
Lewis Carroll.
There was a young lady of Twickenham,
Whose shoes were too tight to walk quick in 'em;
She came back from her walk,
Looking white as a chalk,
And took 'em both off and was sick in 'em.
Oliver Herford.
"It's a very warm day," observed Billy.
"I hope that you won't think it silly
If I say that this heat
Makes me think 'twould be sweet
If one were a coolie in Chile!"
Tudor Jenks.
There was a young man from Cornell,
Who said, "I'm aware of a smell,
But whether it's drains
Or human remains,
I'm really unable to tell."
There was a young lady from Joppa,
Whose friends all decided to drop her;
She went with a friend
On a trip to Ostend,—
And the rest of the story's improper.
There once was a sculptor named Phidias,
Whose statues by some were thought hideous;
He made Aphrodite
Without any nighty,
Which shocked all the ultra-fastidious.
John woke on Jan. first and felt queer;
Said, "Crackers I'll swear off this year!
For the lobster and wine
And the rabbit were fine,—
And it certainly wasn't the beer."
There was a young lady of Venice
Who used hard-boiled eggs to play tennis;
When they said, "You are wrong,"
She replied, "Go along!
You don't know how prolific my hen is!"
There was a young man of Fort Blainey,
Who proposed to his typist named Janey;
When his friends said, "Oh, dear!
She's so old and so queer!"
He replied, "But the day was so rainy!"

XIII

NONSENSE

LUNAR STANZAS

Night saw the crew like pedlers with their packs
Altho' it were too dear to pay for eggs;
Walk crank along with coffin on their backs
While in their arms they bow their weary legs.
And yet 'twas strange, and scarce can one suppose
That a brown buzzard-fly should steal and wear
His white jean breeches and black woollen hose,
But thence that flies have souls is very clear.
But, Holy Father! what shall save the soul,
When cobblers ask three dollars for their shoes?
When cooks their biscuits with a shot-tower roll,
And farmers rake their hay-cocks with their hoes.
Yet, 'twere profuse to see for pendant light,
A tea-pot dangle in a lady's ear;
And 'twere indelicate, although she might
Swallow two whales and yet the moon shine clear.
But what to me are woven clouds, or what,
If dames from spiders learn to warp their looms?
If coal-black ghosts turn soldiers for the State,
With wooden eyes, and lightning-rods for plumes?
Oh! too, too shocking! barbarous, savage taste!
To eat one's mother ere itself was born!
To gripe the tall town-steeple by the waste,
And scoop it out to be his drinking-horn.

No more: no more! I'm sick and dead and gone;
Boxed in a coffin, stifled six feet deep;
Thorns, fat and fearless, prick my skin and bone,
And revel o'er me, like a soulless sheep.
Henry Coggswell Knight.