Page images
PDF
EPUB

"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,
Along the briny beach:

We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each."

The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head-
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.

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,
And more, and more, and more→
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:

And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.

"The time has come," the Walrus said, "To talk of many things:

Of shoes-and ships-and sealing-wax-
Of cabbages-and kings-

And why the sea is boiling hot-
And whether pigs have wings."

"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,
"Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!"

"No hurry!" said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.

"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,
"Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed-

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!
And you are very nice!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"Cut us another slice.

I wish you were not quite so deaf-
I've had to ask you twice!"

"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,
"To play them such a trick,

After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"The butter's spread too thick!"

"I weep for you," the Walrus said:
"I deeply sympathize."

With sobs and tears he sorted out

Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.

"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?"
But answer came there none-

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
Regret's ambrosial wine.

Though Friendship's offering buried lies

'Neath cold Aversion's snow,

Regard and Faith will ever bloom
Perpetually below.

I see thee whirl in marble halls,
In Pleasure's giddy train;
Remorse is never on that brow,

Nor Sorrow's mark of pain.
Deceit has marked thee for her own;

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!
Astride the old fence-rail.

The old fence-rail, the old fence-rail!
How oft these youthful legs,
With Alice' and Ben Bolt's, were hung
Across those wooden pegs.
'Twas there the nauseating smoke

Of my first pipe arose:
O mother dear! these agonies

Are far less keen than those.

I know where lies the hazel dell,
Where simple Nellie sleeps;

I know the cot of Nellie Moore,
And where the willow weeps.
I know the brook-side and the mill,
But all their pathos fails
Beside the days when once I sat
Astride the old fence-rails.

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small]

THE LOVERS

SALLY SALTER, she was a young teacher who taught,
And her friend, Charley Church, was a preacher who praught,
Though his enemies called him a screecher who scraught.

His heart, when he saw her, kept sinking and sunk,
And his eye, meeting hers, began winking, and wunk;
While she, in her turn, kept thinking, and thunk.

He hastened to woo her, and sweetly he wooed,
For his love grew until to a mountain it grewed,
And what he was longing to do then he doed.

In secret he wanted to speak, and he spoke,
To seek with his lips what his heart long had soke;
So he managed to let the truth leak, and it loke.

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.

[ocr errors]

Then homeward, he said, let us drive, and they drove,

And as soon as they wished to arrive, they arrove,
For whatever he couldn't contrive, she controve.

The kiss he was dying to steal, then he stole;

At the feet where he wanted to kneel then he knole;
And he said, "I feel better than ever I fole."

So they to each other kept clinging, and clung,
While Time his swift circuit was winging, and wung;
And this was the thing he was bringing, and brung:

The man Sally wanted to catch, and had caught;
That she wanted from others to snatch, and had snaught;
Was the one that she now liked to scratch, and she scraught.

And Charley's warm love began freezing, and froze,
While he took to teazing, and cruelly toze

The girl he had wished to be squeezing, and squoze.

« PreviousContinue »