Читать книгу Modern American Poetry - Various - Страница 40

Table of Contents

The night was thick and hazy

When the “Piccadilly Daisy”

Carried down the crew and captain in the sea;

And I think the water drowned ’em;

For they never, never found ’em

And I know they didn’t come ashore with me.

Oh! ’twas very sad and lonely

When I found myself the only

Population on this cultivated shore;

But I’ve made a little tavern

In a rocky little cavern,

And I sit and watch for people at the door.

I spent no time in looking

For a girl to do my cooking,

As I’m quite a clever hand at making stews;

But I had that fellow Friday,

Just to keep the tavern tidy,

And to put a Sunday polish on my shoes.

I have a little garden

That I’m cultivating lard in,

As the things I eat are rather tough and dry;

For I live on toasted lizards,

Prickly pears, and parrot gizzards,

And I’m really very fond of beetle-pie.

The clothes I had were furry,

And it made me fret and worry

When I found the moths were eating off the hair;

And I had to scrape and sand ’em,

And I boiled ’em and I tanned ’em,

Till I got the fine morocco suit I wear.

I sometimes seek diversion

In a family excursion

With the few domestic animals you see;

And we take along a carrot

As refreshment for the parrot,

And a little can of jungleberry tea.

Then we gather as we travel,

Bits of moss and dirty gravel,

And we chip off little specimens of stone;

And we carry home as prizes

Funny bugs, of handy sizes,

Just to give the day a scientific tone.

If the roads are wet and muddy

We remain at home and study—

For the Goat is very clever at a sum—

And the Dog, instead of fighting,

Studies ornamental writing,

While the Cat is taking lessons on the drum.

We retire at eleven,

And we rise again at seven;

And I wish to call attention, as I close,

To the fact that all the scholars

Are correct about their collars,

And particular in turning out their toes.