|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 9
Yours more in anger than in sorrow,
AN OLD SOLDIER.
_Mars Lodge, Cutsaddleborough_, _Tomatkinshire_.
* * * * *
RHYMES FOR THE TIMES.
If I were a missionary
On the plains of Uganda,
I'd leave that position airy
Ere, at dawn, anew 'gan day.
* * * * *
QUESTION FOR A DICKENSIAN EXAMINATION PAPER.--"_Here's Pip--Ask Pip.
Pip's our mutual friend_." In which of DICKENS's Novels does this
occur?
* * * * *
[Illustration: "SQUARED!"
FIRST CITIZEN. "WOT! 'ALLOWED' TO MEET IN TRAFALGAR SQUARE ON
SATURDAYS, SUNDAYS, AND BANK 'OLIDAYS, ARE WE!!"
SECOND CITIZEN. "THEN WE JUST WON'T GO!! HE-HEH!!"]
* * * * *
THE BATTLE OF THE BARDS;
_OR, THE LISTS FOR THE LAURELS._
FYTTE THE SECOND.
"Wire in, my warblers!" PUNCHIUS cried. "To 'wire,'
Though slangy, sounds appropriate to the Lyre."
Then forth there toddled with the mincing gait
Of some fair "Tottering Lily," him, the great
New Bard of Buddha! Grave, and grey of crest.
'Tis he illumes the nubibustic West
With the true "_Light of Asia_"--or, at least,
Such simulacrum of the effulgent East
As shineth from a homemade Chinese lantern.
No HAFIZ he, or SAADI, yet he _can_ turn
Authentic Sanscrit to--Telegraphese,
And make the Muse a moon-faced Japanese.
Leaderesque love of gentle gush and "Caps.,"
Is blent in him with fondness for the Japs.
"Wah! wah! futtee!--wah! wah, gooroo!" he cried,
And twanged his tinkling orient lyre with pride.
THE MOANING OF THE BARDS.
No moaning of the _bards_! A pleasant quip!
No manufactured gloom to dim that far light!
Of dirge's luxury deprive my lip?
So suns might say there shall be no more starlight!
Lamping is _not_ required at day's full noon,
Lanterns _are_ out of place in dawn's fair flush-light;
But when dark night sets in, and there's no moon,
There is a chance for stars, or even a rushlight.
No moaning of the bards? That were hard lines
For minor line-spinners, imperial TENNYSON!
Owls only have their chance when day declines,
That's why the night-birds crown thee with prompt benison.
LEWIS has wailed and warbled--twiddlingly:
ALFRED has--rootley-tootlely--wailed and warbled;
WILLIAM's young Muse hath wept--then why not Me,
Whose brow, not less than theirs, with woe is marbled?
ROBERT and AUSTIN (DOBSON) took their turns;
There is some talk, too, of Sir THEODORE MARTIN.
Seeing _my_ lips, too, thrill, _my_ heart, too, burns,
Why the great contest should I take no part in!
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|