rank poisons _wines!!!_ For Summer's {last roses} lie hid in the {wines} stable-boys smoking long-nines That were garnered by {maidens who laughed through the vines}, scowl howl scoff sneer Then a {smile}, and a {gla.s.s}, and a {toast}, and a {cheer}, strychnine and whiskey, and ratsbane and beer For {all the good wine, and we've some of it here}!

In cellar, in pantry, in attic, in hall, Down, down with the tyrant that masters us all!

{Long live the gay servant that laughs for us all!}

_Oliver Wendell Holmes._

[Transcriber's note: The words in {braces} are struck out in the original text with alternatives above.]

THE JOVIAL PRIEST'S CONFESSION

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 gla.s.s when I am shrinking, That the cherubim may cry--when they see me sinking, G.o.d be merciful to a soul--of this gentleman's way of thinking.

A gla.s.s 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 surpa.s.s'd in Writing so: I'd just as lief--be buried; tomb'd and gra.s.s'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 G.o.d'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 Ph[oe]bus 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 unp.r.o.nounceable 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 crepe; 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._