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Nonsense verse and songs

The Owl and the Pussy-cat

IThe Owl and the Pussy-cat went to seaIn a beautiful pea-green boat,They took some honey, and plenty of money,Wrapped up in a five-pound note.The Owl looked up to the stars above,And sang to a small guitar,“O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,What a beautiful Pussy you are,                     You are,                     You are!What a beautiful Pussy you are!”IIPussy said to the Owl, “You elegant fowl!How charmingly sweet you sing!O let us be married! too long we have tarried:But what shall we do for a ring?”Thwy sailed away, for a year and a day,To the land where the Bong-tree growsAnd there in a wood a Piggy-wig stoodWith a ring at the end of his nose,                     His nose,                     His nose,With a ring at the end of his nose.III“Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one                                                               shillingYour ring?” Said the Piggy, “I will.”So they took it away, and were married                                                               next dayBy the Turkey who lives on the hill.They dined on mince, and slices of quince,Which they ate with a runcible spoon;And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,They danced by the light of the moon,                     The moon,                     The moon,They danced by the light of the moon.

The Children of the Owl and the Pussy-cat

Our mother was the Pussy-cat,Our father was the Owl,And so we’re partly little beastsAnd partly little fowl,The brothers of our familyHave feathers and they hoot,While all the sisters dress in furAnd have long tails to boot.          We all believe that little mice,          For food are singularly nice.Our mother died long years ago.She was a lovely catHer tail was 5 feet long, and greyWith stripes, but what of that?In Sila forest on the EastOf far Calabria’s shoreShe tumbled from a lofty tree —None ever saw her more.Our owly father long was illFrom sorrow and surprise,But with the feathers of his tailHe wiped his weeping eyes.And in the hollow of a treeIn Sila’s inmost mazeWe made a happy home and thereWe pass our obvious days.From Reggian CosenzaMany owls about us flitAnd bring us worldly newsFor which we do not care a bit.We watch the sun each morning rise,Beyond Tarento’s strait;We go out pleasure seeking,Before it gets too late;And when the evening shades beginTo lengthen from the treesYoy’ll find us merrily dancingAs sure as bees is bees.We wander up and down the shoreOr tumble over head and heels,But never, never more,Can see the far Gromboolian plainsOr weep as we could once have weptO’er many a vanished scene:This is the way our father moans —He is so very green.Our father still preserves his voice,And when he sees a starHe often sings to the strings of thatOriginal guitar.The pot in which our parents tookThe honey in their boat,But all the money has been spent,Beside the 5-pound note.The owls who come and bring us nowsAre often sent awayBecause we take no interestIn poltix of the day.

The Duck and the Kangaroo

ISaid the Duck to the Kangaroo,“Good gracious! how you hop!Over the fields and the water too,As if you never would stop!My life is a bore in this nasty pond,And I long to go out in the world beyond!I wish I could hop like you!”Said the Duck to the Kangaroo.II“Please give me a ride on your back!”Said the Duck to the Kangaroo.“I would sit quite still, and say nothing but                                                            “Quack”,Te whole of the long day through!And we’d go to the Dee, and the Jelly Bo Lee,Over the land, and over the sea; —Please take me a ride! O do!”Said the Duck to the Kangaroo.IIISaid the Kangaroo to the Duck,“This requires some little reflection;Perhaps on the whole it might bring me luck,And there seems but one objection,Which is, if you’ll let me speak so bold,Your feet are unpleasantly wet and cold,And would probably give me the roo-Matiz!” said the Kangaroo.IVSaid the Duck, “As I sate on the rocks,I have thought over that completely,And I bought four pairs of worsted socksWhich fit my web-fit neatly.And to keep out the cold I’ve bought a cloak,And every day a cigar I’l smoke,All to follow my own dear trueLove of Kangaroo!”VSaid the Kangaroo, “I’m ready!All in the moonlight pale;But to balance me well, dear Duck, sit steady!And quite at the end of my tail!”So away they went with a hop and a bound,And they hopped the whole world three                                                  times roundAnd who so happy, – O who,As the Duck and the Kangaroo?

The Daddy Long-legs and the Fly

IOnce Mr. Daddy Long-legs,Dressed in brown and gray,Walked about upon the sandsUpon a summer’s day;And there among the pebbles,When the wind was rather cold,He met with Mr. Floppy Fly,All dressed in blue and gold.And as it was too soon to dine,They drank some Periwinkle-wine,And played an hour or two, or more,At battlecock and shuttledoor.IISaid Mr. Daddy Long-legsTo Mr. Floppy Fly,“Why do you never come to court?I wish you’d tell me why.All gold and shine, in dress so fine,You’d quite delight the court.Why do you never go at all?I really think you ough!And if you went, you’d see such sights!Such rugs! and jugs! and candle-lights!And more than all, the King and Queen,One in red, and one in green!”III“O Mr. Daddy Long-legs,”Said Mr. Floppy Fly,“It’s true I never go to court,And I will tell you why.If I had six long legs like yours,At once I’d go to court!But oh! I can’t, because my legsAre so extremely short.And I’m afraid the King and Queen(One in red, and one in green)Would said aloud, “You are not fit,You Fly, to come to court a bit!”IV“O Mr. Daddy Long-legs,”Said Mr. Floppy Fly,“I wish you’d sing one little song!One mumbian melody!You used to sing so awful wellIn former days gone by,But now you never sing at all;I wish you’d tell me why:For if you would, the silvery soundWould please the shrimps and cockles round,And all the crabs would gladly comeTo hear you sing, “Ah, Hum di Hum!”VSaid Mr. Daddy Long-legs,“I can never sing again!And if you wish, I’ll tell you why,Although it gives me pain.For years I cannot hum a bit,Or sing the smallest song;And this the dreadful reason is,My legs are grown too long!My six long legs, all here and there,Oppress my bosom with despair;And if I stand, or lie, or sit,I cannot sing one single bit!”VISo Mr. Daddy Long-legsAnd Mr. Floppy FlySat down in silence by the sea,And gazed upon the sky.They said, “This is a dreadful thing!The world has all gone wrong,Since one has legs too short by half,The other much too long!One never more can go to court,Because his legs have grown too short;The other cannot sing a song,Because his legs have grown too long!”VIIThen Mr. Daddy Long-legsAnd Mr. Floppy FlyRushed downward to the foamy seaWith one sponge-taneous cry;And there they found a little boat,Whose sails were pink and grey;And off they sailed among the waves,Far, and far away,They sailed across the silent main,And reached the great Gromboolian plain;And there they play for evermoreAt battlecock and shuttledoor.

The Table and the Chair

ISaid the Table to the Chair,“You can hardly be aware,How I suffer from the heat,And from chilblains on my feet!If we took a little walk,We might have a little talk!Pray let us take the air!”Said the Table to the Chair.IISaid the Chair unto the Table,“Now you Know we are not able!How foolishly you talk,When you know we cannot walk!”Said the Table, with a sigh,“It can do no harm to try,I’ve as many legs as you,Why can’t we walk on two?”IIISo they both went slowly down,And walked about the townWith a cheerful bumpy sound,As they toddled round and round.And everybody cried,As they hastened to their side,“See! the Table and the ChairHave come out to take the air!”IVBut in going down an alley,To a castle in a valley,They completely lost their way,And wandered all the day,Till, to see them safely back,They paid a Ducky-quack,And a Beetle, and a Mouse,Who took them to their house.VThen they whispered to each other,“O delightful little brother!What a lovely walk we’ve taken!Let us dine on Beans and Bacon!”So the Ducky, and the leetleBrowny-Mousy and the BeetleDined, and danced upon their heads,Till they toddled to their beds.

The new vestments

There lived an old man in the Kingdom of Tess,Who invented a purely original dress;And when it was perfectly made and complete,He opened the door, and walked into the street.By way of a hat, he’d a loaf of Brown Bread,In the middle of which he inserted his head;—His Shirt was made up of no end of dead Mice,The warmth of whose skins was quite fluffy and nice;—His Drawers were of Rabbit-skins;—so were his Shoes;—His Stockings were skins,—but it is not known whose;—His Waistcoat and Trousers were made of Pork Chops;—His Buttons were Jujubes, and Chocolate Drops;—His Coat was all Pancakes with Jam for a border,And a girdle of Biscuits to keep it in order;And he wore over all, as a screen from bad weather,A Cloak of green Cabbage-leaves stitched all together.He had walked a short way, when he heard a great noise,Of all sorts of Beasticles, Birdlings, and Boys;—And from every long street and dark lane in the townBeasts, Birdles, and Boys in a tumult rushed down.Two Cows and a half ate his Cabbage-leaf Cloak;—Four Apes seized his Girdle, which vanished like smoke;Three Kids ate up half of his Pancaky Coat,—And the tails were devour’d by an ancient He Goat;—An army of Dogs in a twinkling tore up hisPork Waistcoat and Trousers to give to their Puppies;—And while they were growling, and mumbling the Chops,Ten Boys prigged the Jujubes and Chocolate drops.He tried to run back to his house, but in vain,For Scores of fat Pigs came again and again;—They rushed out of stables and hovels and doors,—They tore off his stockings, his shoes, and his drawers;—And now from the housetops with screechings descendStriped, spotted, white, black, and gray Cats without end:They jumped on his shoulders and knocked off his hat,—When Crows, Ducks, and Hens made a mincemeat of that;—They speedily flew at his sleeves in a trice,And utterly tore up his Shirt of dead Mice;—They swallowed the last of his Shirt with a squall,—Whereon he ran home with no clothes on at all.And he said to himself, as he bolted the door,“I will not wear a similar dress any more,Any more, any more, any more, never more!”

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