Popularly Known as “The Heathen Chinee”
WHICH I wish to remark—
And my language is plain—
That for ways that are dark
And for tricks that are vain,
The heathen Chinee is peculiar:
Which the same I would rise to explain.
Ah Sin was his name;
And I shall not deny
In regard to the same
What that name might...
De gray owl sing fum de chimbly top:
“Who—who—is—you-oo?”
En I say: “Good Lawd, hit ’s des po’ me,
En I ain’t quite ready fer de Jasper Sea;
I ’m po’ en sinful, en you ’lowed I ’d be;
Oh, wait, good Lawd, ’twell ter-morror!”
De gray owl sing fum de cypress tree:
“Who—who—is—you-oo?”
En I say: “Good Lawd, ef you look you ’...
Go ’way, fiddle! folks is tired o’ hearin’ you a-squawkin’.
Keep silence fur yo’ betters!—don’t you hear de banjo talkin’?
About de ’possum’s tail she ’s gwine to lecter—ladies, listen!—
About de ha’r whut isn’t dar, an’ why de ha’r is missin’:
“Dar’s gwine to be a’ oberflow,” said Noah, lookin’ solemn—
Fur Noah tuk the “Herald,” an’ he read de ribber...
A Centipede was happy quite,
Until a frog in fun
Said, “Pray, which leg comes after which?”
This raised her mind to such a pitch,
She lay distracted in the ditch
Considering how to run.
You, Nebuchadnezzar, whoa, sah!
Whar is you tryin’ to go, sah?
I ’d hab you fur to know, sah,
I ’s a-holdin’ ob de lines.
You better stop dat prancin’,
You ’s paw’ful fond ob dancin’,
But I ’ll bet my yeah’s advancin’
Dat I ’ll cure you ob yo’ shines.
Look heah, mule! Better min’ out;
Fus’ t’ing you know you ’ll fin’ out...
I Loved him in my dawning years—
Far years, divinely dim;
My blithest smiles, my saddest tears,
Were evermore for him.
My dreaming when the day began,
The latest thought I had,
Was still some little loving plan
To make my darling glad.
They deemed he lacked the conquering wiles,
That other children wear;...
There was an ape in the days that were earlier;
Centuries passed, and his hair grew curlier;
Centuries more gave a thumb to his wrist,
Then he was a Man and a Positivist.
With Slight Alterations by a Teetotaller
COME! fill a fresh bumper,—for why should we go
While the [nectar vs. logwood] still reddens our cups as they flow?
Pour out the [rich juices vs. decoction] still bright with the sun,
Till o’er the brimmed crystal the [rubies vs. dye-stuff] shall run.
The [purple-globed clusters vs. half-ripened apples] their life-...
From “Satires,” Book III. Sat. 3.
THE COURTEOUS citizen bade me to his feast
With hollow words, and overly 1 request:
“Come, will ye dine with me this holiday?”
I yielded, though he hoped I would say nay:
For I had maidened it, as many use;
Loath for to grant, but loather to refuse.
“Alack, sir, I were loath—another day,—
I should...
From Punch’s Poetical Cookery Book
Roasted Sucking-Pig
AIR.—“Scots wha hae.”
COOKS who ’d roast a sucking-pig,
Purchase one not over big;
Coarse ones are not worth a fig;
So a young one buy.
See that he is scalded well
(That is done by those who sell,
Therefore on that point to dwell
Were absurdity)....
