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Be satisfied to wed her to
A BOUCICAULT or BARING—which
Means any one who’s very rich.
Now, there’s an Earl who lives hard by,—
My child and I will go and try
If he will make the maid his bride—
If not, to you she shall be tied.”
They sought the Earl that very day;
The Sage began to say his say.
The Earl (a very wicked man,
Whose face bore Vice’s blackest ban)
Cut short the scholar’s simple tale,
And said in voice to make them quail,
“Pooh! go along! you’re drunk, no doubt—
Here, PETERS, turn these people out!”
The Sage, rebuffed in mode uncouth,
Returning, met the Mystic Youth.
“My darling boy,” the Scholar said,
“Take MARY—blessings on your head!”
The Mystic Boy undid his vest,
And took a parchment from his breast,
And said, “Now, by that noble brow,
I ne’er knew father such as thou!
The sterling rule of common sense
Now reaps its proper recompense.
Rejoice, my soul’s unequalled Queen,
For I am DUKE OF GRETNA GREEN!”
Ballad: The King Of Canoodle-Dum
The story of FREDERICK GOWLER,
A mariner of the sea,
Who quitted his ship, the Howler,
A-sailing in Caribbee.
For many a day he wandered,
Till he met in a state of rum
CALAMITY POP VON PEPPERMINT DROP,
The King of Canoodle-Dum.
That monarch addressed him gaily,
“Hum! Golly de do to-day?
Hum! Lily-white Buckra Sailee”—
(You notice his playful way?)—
“What dickens you doin’ here, sar?
Why debbil you want to come?
Hum! Picaninnee, dere isn’t no sea
In City Canoodle-Dum!”
And GOWLER he answered sadly,
“Oh, mine is a doleful tale!
They’ve treated me werry badly
In Lunnon, from where I hail.
I’m one of the Family Royal—
No common Jack Tar you see;
I’m WILLIAM THE FOURTH, far up in the North,
A King in my own countree!”
Bang-bang! How the tom-toms thundered!
Bang-bang! How they thumped this gongs!
Bang-bang! How the people wondered!
Bang-bang! At it hammer and tongs!
Alliance with Kings of Europe
Is an honour Canoodlers seek,
Her monarchs don’t stop with PEPPERMINT DROP
Every day in the week!
FRED told them that he was undone,
For his people all went insane,
And fired the Tower of London,
And Grinnidge’s Naval Fane.
And some of them racked St. James’s,
And vented their rage upon
The Church of St. Paul, the Fishmongers’ Hall,
And the Angel at Islington.
CALAMITY POP implored him
In his capital to remain
Till those people of his restored him
To power and rank again.
CALAMITY POP he made him
A Prince of Canoodle-Dum,
With a couple of caves, some beautiful slaves,
And the run of the royal rum.
Pop gave him his only daughter,
HUM PICKETY WIMPLE TIP:
FRED vowed that if over the water
He went, in an English ship,
He’d make her his Queen,—though truly
It is an unusual thing
For a Caribbee brat who’s as black as your hat
To be wife of an English King.
And all the Canoodle-Dummers
They copied his rolling walk,
His method of draining rummers,
His emblematical talk.
A BOUCICAULT or BARING—which
Means any one who’s very rich.
Now, there’s an Earl who lives hard by,—
My child and I will go and try
If he will make the maid his bride—
If not, to you she shall be tied.”
They sought the Earl that very day;
The Sage began to say his say.
The Earl (a very wicked man,
Whose face bore Vice’s blackest ban)
Cut short the scholar’s simple tale,
And said in voice to make them quail,
“Pooh! go along! you’re drunk, no doubt—
Here, PETERS, turn these people out!”
The Sage, rebuffed in mode uncouth,
Returning, met the Mystic Youth.
“My darling boy,” the Scholar said,
“Take MARY—blessings on your head!”
The Mystic Boy undid his vest,
And took a parchment from his breast,
And said, “Now, by that noble brow,
I ne’er knew father such as thou!
The sterling rule of common sense
Now reaps its proper recompense.
Rejoice, my soul’s unequalled Queen,
For I am DUKE OF GRETNA GREEN!”
Ballad: The King Of Canoodle-Dum
The story of FREDERICK GOWLER,
A mariner of the sea,
Who quitted his ship, the Howler,
A-sailing in Caribbee.
For many a day he wandered,
Till he met in a state of rum
CALAMITY POP VON PEPPERMINT DROP,
The King of Canoodle-Dum.
That monarch addressed him gaily,
“Hum! Golly de do to-day?
Hum! Lily-white Buckra Sailee”—
(You notice his playful way?)—
“What dickens you doin’ here, sar?
Why debbil you want to come?
Hum! Picaninnee, dere isn’t no sea
In City Canoodle-Dum!”
And GOWLER he answered sadly,
“Oh, mine is a doleful tale!
They’ve treated me werry badly
In Lunnon, from where I hail.
I’m one of the Family Royal—
No common Jack Tar you see;
I’m WILLIAM THE FOURTH, far up in the North,
A King in my own countree!”
Bang-bang! How the tom-toms thundered!
Bang-bang! How they thumped this gongs!
Bang-bang! How the people wondered!
Bang-bang! At it hammer and tongs!
Alliance with Kings of Europe
Is an honour Canoodlers seek,
Her monarchs don’t stop with PEPPERMINT DROP
Every day in the week!
FRED told them that he was undone,
For his people all went insane,
And fired the Tower of London,
And Grinnidge’s Naval Fane.
And some of them racked St. James’s,
And vented their rage upon
The Church of St. Paul, the Fishmongers’ Hall,
And the Angel at Islington.
CALAMITY POP implored him
In his capital to remain
Till those people of his restored him
To power and rank again.
CALAMITY POP he made him
A Prince of Canoodle-Dum,
With a couple of caves, some beautiful slaves,
And the run of the royal rum.
Pop gave him his only daughter,
HUM PICKETY WIMPLE TIP:
FRED vowed that if over the water
He went, in an English ship,
He’d make her his Queen,—though truly
It is an unusual thing
For a Caribbee brat who’s as black as your hat
To be wife of an English King.
And all the Canoodle-Dummers
They copied his rolling walk,
His method of draining rummers,
His emblematical talk.
Другие электронные книги автора William Schwenck Gilbert
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