"If seven maids with seven mops Swept it for half a year, Do you suppose," the Walrus said, "That they could get it clear?" "I doubt it," said the Carpenter, And shed a bitter tear. "O Oysters, come and walk with us!" The Walrus did beseech. "A pleasant talk, a pleasant walk, We cannot do with more than four, The eldest Oyster looked at him, But four young Oysters hurried up, All eager for the treat: Their coats were brushed, their faces washed, Their shoes were clean and neat- And this was odd, because, you know, They hadn't any feet. Four other Oysters followed them, And yet another four; And thick and fast they came at last, The Walrus and the Carpenter And all the little Oysters stood "The time has come," the Walrus said, "To talk of many things: Of shoes-and ships-and sealing-wax- And why the sea is boiling hot- "But wait a bit," the Oysters cried, "No hurry!" said the Carpenter. "A loaf of bread," the Walrus said, Now, if you're ready, Oysters dear, We can begin to feed." "But not on us!" the Oysters cried, Turning a little blue. "After such kindness, that would be A dismal thing to do!" “The night is fine," the Walrus said. "Do you admire the view? "It was so kind of you to come! I wish you were not quite so deaf- "It seems a shame," the Walrus said, After we've brought them out so far, "I weep for you," the Walrus said: With sobs and tears he sorted out Those of the largest size, "O Oysters," said the Carpenter, And this was scarcely odd, because They'd eaten every one. Lewis Carroll [1832-1898] SONGS WITHOUT SENSE For the Parlor and Piano I. THE PERSONIFIED SENTIMENTAL AFFECTION'S charm no longer gilds The idol of the shrine; But cold Oblivion seeks to fill Though Friendship's offering buried lies 'Neath cold Aversion's snow, Regard and Faith will ever bloom I see thee whirl in marble halls, Nor Sorrow's mark of pain. Inconstancy the same; And Ruin wildly sheds its gleam Athwart thy path of shame. II. THE HOMELY PATHETIC · THE dews are heavy on my brow; My breath comes hard and low; Yet, mother dear, grant one request, Before your boy must go. Oh! lift me ere my spirit sinks, And ere my senses fail: Place me once more, O mother dear! The old fence-rail, the old fence-rail! Of my first pipe arose: Are far less keen than those. I know where lies the hazel dell, I know the cot of Nellie Moore, THE LOVERS SALLY SALTER, she was a young teacher who taught, His heart, when he saw her, kept sinking and sunk, He hastened to woo her, and sweetly he wooed, In secret he wanted to speak, and he spoke, He asked her to ride to the church, and they rode; They so sweetly did glide that they both thought they glode, And they came to the place to be tied, and were toed. Then homeward, he said, let us drive, and they drove, And as soon as they wished to arrive, they arrove, The kiss he was dying to steal, then he stole; At the feet where he wanted to kneel then he knole; So they to each other kept clinging, and clung, The man Sally wanted to catch, and had caught; And Charley's warm love began freezing, and froze, The girl he had wished to be squeezing, and squoze. |