Part 170 (1/2)

rank poisons _wines!!!_ For Summer's {last roses} lie hid in the {wines} stable-boys smoking long-nines That were garnered by {maidens who laughed through the vines}, scowl howl scoff sneer Then a {smile}, and a {gla.s.s}, and a {toast}, and a {cheer}, strychnine and whiskey, and ratsbane and beer For {all the good wine, and we've some of it here}!

In cellar, in pantry, in attic, in hall, Down, down with the tyrant that masters us all!

{Long live the gay servant that laughs for us all!}

_Oliver Wendell Holmes._

[Transcriber's note: The words in {braces} are struck out in the original text with alternatives above.]

THE JOVIAL PRIEST'S CONFESSION

TRANSLATED FROM THE LATIN OF WALTER DE MAPES, TIME OF HENRY II

I devise to end my days--in a tavern drinking, May some Christian hold for me--the gla.s.s when I am shrinking, That the cherubim may cry--when they see me sinking, G.o.d be merciful to a soul--of this gentleman's way of thinking.

A gla.s.s of wine amazingly--enlighteneth one's internals; 'Tis wings bedewed with nectar--that fly up to supernals; Bottles cracked in taverns--have much the sweeter kernels, Than the sups allowed to us--in the college journals.

Every one by nature hath--a mold which he was cast in; I happen to be one of those--who never could write fasting; By a single little boy--I should be surpa.s.s'd in Writing so: I'd just as lief--be buried; tomb'd and gra.s.s'd in.

Every one by nature hath--a gift too, a dotation: I, when I make verses--do get the inspiration Of the very best of wine--that comes into the nation: It maketh sermons to astound--for edification.

Just as liquor floweth good--floweth forth my lay so; But I must moreover eat--or I could not say so; Naught it availeth inwardly--should I write all day so; But with G.o.d's grace after meat--I beat Ovidius Naso.

Neither is there given to me--prophetic animation, Unless when I have eat and drank--yea, ev'n to saturation, Then in my upper story--hath Bacchus domination, And Ph[oe]bus rushes into me, and beggareth all relation.

_Leigh Hunt._

LIMERICKS

There was an old man of Tobago, Who lived upon rice, gruel and sago; Till, much to his bliss, His physician said this: ”To a leg, sir, of mutton, you may go.”

There was an old soldier of Bister, Went walking one day with his sister; When a cow, at one poke, Tossed her into an oak, Before the old gentleman missed her.

There was a young man of St. Kitts Who was very much troubled with fits; The eclipse of the moon Threw him into a swoon, When he tumbled and broke into bits.

There was an old man who said, ”Gee!

_I_ can't multiply seven by three!

Though fourteen seems plenty, It _might_ come to twenty,-- I haven't the slightest idee!”

There was an old man in a pie, Who said, ”I must fly! I must fly!”

When they said, ”You can't do it!”

He replied that he knew it, But he _had_ to get out of that pie!