A NONSENSE RHYME
Ringlety-jing!
And what will we sing?
Some little crinkety-crankety thing
That rhymes and chimes,
And skips, sometimes,
As though wound up with a kink in
the spring.
Grunkety-krung!
And chunkety-plung!
Sing the song that the bullfrog sung, -
A song of the soul
Of a mad tadpole
That met his fate in a leaky bowl;
And it's O for the first false wiggle he
made
In a sea of pale pink lemonade!
And its O for the thirst
Within him pent,
And the hopes that burst
As his reason went -
When his strong arm failed and his
strength was spent!
Sing, O sing
Of the things that cling,
And the claws that clutch and the
fangs that sting -
Till the tadpole's tongue
And his tail upflung
Quavered and failed with a song
unsung!
O the dank despair in the
rank morass,
Where the crawfish crouch in
the cringing grass,
And the long limp rune of the loon wails on
For the mad, sad soul
Of a bad tadpole
Forever lost and gone!
Jinglety-jee!
And now we'll see
What the last of the lay shall be,
As the dismal tip of the tune, O
friends,
Swoons away and the long tail
ends.
And it's O and alack!
For the tangled legs
And the spangled back
Of the green grig's eggs,
And the unstrung strain
Of the strange refrain
That the winds wind up like a strand
of rain!
And its O,
Also,
For the ears wreathed low,
Like a laurel-wreath on the lifted brow
Of the frog that chants of the why and
how,
And the wherefore too, and the
thus and so
Of the wail he weaves in a woof
of woe!
Twangle, then, with your wrangling
strings,
The tinkling links of a thousand
things!
And clang the pang of a maddening
moan
Till the Echo, hid in a land unknown,
Shall leap as he hears, and hoot
and hoo
Like the wretched wraith of a
Whoopty-Doo!
A FIRE AT NIGHT*
Fire! Fire! Ring! and Ring!
Hear the old bell bang and ding!
Fire! Fire! 'way at night, -
Can't you hear? - I thin you might! -
Can't hear them-air clangin' bells? -
W'y, I can't hear nothin' else!
Fire! Ain't you 'wake at last! -
Hear them horses poundin' past -
Hear that ladder-wagon grind
Round the corner! - and behind,
Hear the horse-cart, turnin' short
And the horses slip and snort
As the engines clank-and-jar
Jolts the whole street, near and far,
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Can't you h'ist2 that winder higher?
La! they've all got past like "scat!"...
Night's as black as my old hat -
And it's rainin', too, at that!...
Wonder where their old fire's at!
Ringlety-jing!
And what will we sing?
Some little crinkety-crankety thing
That rhymes and chimes,
And skips, sometimes,
As though wound up with a kink in
the spring.
Grunkety-krung!
And chunkety-plung!
Sing the song that the bullfrog sung, -
A song of the soul
Of a mad tadpole
That met his fate in a leaky bowl;
And it's O for the first false wiggle he
made
In a sea of pale pink lemonade!
And its O for the thirst
Within him pent,
And the hopes that burst
As his reason went -
When his strong arm failed and his
strength was spent!
Sing, O sing
Of the things that cling,
And the claws that clutch and the
fangs that sting -
Till the tadpole's tongue
And his tail upflung
Quavered and failed with a song
unsung!
O the dank despair in the
rank morass,
Where the crawfish crouch in
the cringing grass,
And the long limp rune of the loon wails on
For the mad, sad soul
Of a bad tadpole
Forever lost and gone!
Jinglety-jee!
And now we'll see
What the last of the lay shall be,
As the dismal tip of the tune, O
friends,
Swoons away and the long tail
ends.
And it's O and alack!
For the tangled legs
And the spangled back
Of the green grig's eggs,
And the unstrung strain
Of the strange refrain
That the winds wind up like a strand
of rain!
And its O,
Also,
For the ears wreathed low,
Like a laurel-wreath on the lifted brow
Of the frog that chants of the why and
how,
And the wherefore too, and the
thus and so
Of the wail he weaves in a woof
of woe!
Twangle, then, with your wrangling
strings,
The tinkling links of a thousand
things!
And clang the pang of a maddening
moan
Till the Echo, hid in a land unknown,
Shall leap as he hears, and hoot
and hoo
Like the wretched wraith of a
Whoopty-Doo!
A FIRE AT NIGHT*
Fire! Fire! Ring! and Ring!
Hear the old bell bang and ding!
Fire! Fire! 'way at night, -
Can't you hear? - I thin you might! -
Can't hear them-air clangin' bells? -
W'y, I can't hear nothin' else!
Fire! Ain't you 'wake at last! -
Hear them horses poundin' past -
Hear that ladder-wagon grind
Round the corner! - and behind,
Hear the horse-cart, turnin' short
And the horses slip and snort
As the engines clank-and-jar
Jolts the whole street, near and far,
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Can't you h'ist2 that winder higher?
La! they've all got past like "scat!"...
Night's as black as my old hat -
And it's rainin', too, at that!...
Wonder where their old fire's at!