Part 13 (1/2)
WRITTEN AFTER SWIMMING FROM SESTOS TO ABYDOS
If, in the month of dark December, Leander, who was nightly wont (What maid will not the tale remember?) To cross thy stream broad h.e.l.lespont.
If, when the wint'ry tempest roar'd, He sped to Hero nothing loth, And thus of old thy current pour'd, Fair Venus! how I pity both!
For _me_, degenerate, modern wretch, Though in the genial month of May, My dripping limbs I faintly stretch, And think I've done a feat to-day.
But since he crossed the rapid tide, According to the doubtful story, To woo--and--Lord knows what beside, And swam for Love, as I for Glory;
'T were hard to say who fared the best: Sad mortals! thus the G.o.ds still plague you!
He lost his labor, I my jest; For he was drowned, and I've the ague.
_Lord Byron._
THE FISHERMAN'S CHANT
Oh, the fisherman is a happy wight!
He dibbles by day, and he sniggles by night.
He trolls for fish, and he trolls his lay-- He sniggles by night, and he dibbles by day.
Oh, who so merry as he!
On the river or the sea!
Sniggling, Wriggling Eels, and higgling Over the price Of a nice Slice Of fish, twice As much as it ought to be.
Oh, the fisherman is a happy man!
He dibbles, and sniggles, and fills his can!
With a sharpened hook, and a sharper eye, He sniggles and dibbles for what comes by, Oh, who so merry as he!
On the river or the sea!
Dibbling Nibbling Chub, and quibbling Over the price Of a nice Slice Of fish, twice As much as it ought to be.
_F. C. Burnand._
REPORT OF AN ADJUDGED CASE
NOT TO BE FOUND IN ANY OF THE BOOKS
Between Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose, The spectacles set them unhappily wrong; The point in dispute was, as all the world knows, To which the said spectacles ought to belong.