The Owl and the Pussy-Cat

The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea 

In 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!" 

Pussy 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?" 

They sailed away, for a year and a day, 

To the land where the Bong-Tree grows 

And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood 

With a ring at the end of his nose, 

His nose, 

His nose, 

With a ring at the end of his nose. 

"Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling 

Your ring?" Said the Piggy, "I will." 

So they took it away, and were married next day 

By 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.

~ Edward Lear

The Height of the Ridiculous

I wrote some lines once on a time 

In wondrous merry mood, 

And thought, as usual, men would say 

They were exceeding good. 

They were so queer, so very queer, 

I laughed as I would die; 

Albeit, in the general way, 

A sober man am I. 

I called my servant, and he came; 

How kind it was of him 

To mind a slender man like me, 

He of the mighty limb. 

"These to the printer," I exclaimed, 

And, in my humorous way, 

I added, (as a trifling jest,) 

"There'll be the devil to pay." 

He took the paper, and I watched, 

And saw him peep within; 

At the first line he read, his face 

Was all upon the grin. 

He read the next; the grin grew broad, 

And shot from ear to ear; 

He read the third; a chuckling noise 

I now began to hear. 

The fourth; he broke into a roar; 

The fifth; his waistband split; 

The sixth; he burst five buttons off, 

And tumbled in a fit. 

Ten days and nights, with sleepless eye, 

I watched that wretched man, 

And since, I never dare to write 

As funny as I can.

~ Oliver Wendell Holmes

Judged by the Company One Keeps

One night in late October,

When I was far from sober,

Returning with my load with manly pride,

My feet began to stutter,

So I lay down in the gutter,

And a pig came near and lay down by my side;

A lady passing by was heard to say:

"You can tell a man who boozes,

By the company he chooses,"

And the pig got up and slowly walked away.

~ Anonymous

The Common Cormorant

The common cormorant or shag

Lays eggs inside a paper bag

The reason you will see no doubt

It is to keep the lightning out.

But what these unobservant birds

Have never noticed is that herds

Of wandering bears may come with buns

And steal the bags to hold the crumbs.

~ Anonymous

Limerick

There was an old man of Tarentum,

Who gnashed his false teeth till he bent ’em:

When they asked him the cost

Of what he had lost,

He replied “I can’t say, for I rent ’em!”

There were three young women of Birmingham,

And I know a sad story concerning 'em:

They stuck needles and pins

In the reverend shins

Of the Bishop engaged in confirming 'em.

There was a young lady of Wilts,

Who walked up to Scotland on stilts;

When they said it was shocking

To show so much stocking,

She answered: "Then what about kilts?"

There once was a girl of Lahore,

The same shape behind as before.

As no one knew where 

To offer a chair,

She had to sit down on the floor.

~ Cosmo Monkhouse

Limerick

A man hired by John Smith and Co.

Loudly declared that he'd tho.

Men that he saw

Dumping dirt near his door ---

The drivers, therefore, didn't do. 

~ Mark Twain

Limerick

There was a young lady of Ryde,

Who ate some green apples and died;

The apples fermented

Inside the lamented,

And made cider inside her inside.

~ Anonymous

Limerick

I'd rather have fingers than toes; 

I'd rather have ears than a nose; 

As for my hair, 

I'm glad it's still there,

I'll be awfully sad when it goes.

~ Gelett Burgess 

Limerick

His sister named Lucy O’Finner,

Grew constantly thinner and thinner;

The reason was plain,

She slept in the rain,

And was never allowed any dinner.

~ Lewis Carrol

Horse Sense

A horse can’t pull while kicking.

This fact I merely mention.

And he can’t kick while pulling,

Which is our chief contention.

Let’s imitate the good old horse

And lead a life that’s fitting;

Just pull an honest load, and then

There’ll be no time for kicking.

~ Anonymous

Nightmare

When you're lying awake with a dismal headache, and repose is

taboo'd by anxiety,

I conceive you may use any language you choose to indulge in

without impropriety;

For your brain is on fire - the bedclothes conspire of usual

slumber to plunder you:

First your counterpane goes and uncovers your toes, and your sheet

slips demurely from under you;

Then the blanketing tickles - you feel like mixed pickles, so

terribly sharp is the pricking,

And you're hot, and you're cross, and you tumble and toss till

there's nothing 'twixt you and the ticking.

Then the bedclothes all creep to the ground in a heap, and you pick

'em all up in a tangle;

Next your pillow resigns and politely declines to remain at its

usual angle!

Well, you get some repose in the form of a doze, with hot eyeballs

and head ever aching,

But your slumbering teems with such horrible dreams that you'd very

much better be waking;

For you dream you are crossing the Channel, and tossing about in a

steamer from Harwich,

Which is something between a large bathing-machine and a very small

second-class carriage;

And you're giving a treat (penny ice and cold meat) to a party of

friends and relations -

They're a ravenous horde - and they all came on board at Sloane

Square and South Kensington Stations.

And bound on that journey you find your attorney (who started that

morning from Devon);

He's a bit undersized, and you don't feel surprised when he tells

you he's only eleven.

Well, you're driving like mad with this singular lad (by the bye

the ship's now a four-wheeler),

And you're playing round games, and he calls you bad names when you

tell him that "ties pay the dealer";

But this you can't stand, so you throw up your hand, and you find

you're as cold as an icicle,

In your shirt and your socks (the black silk with gold clocks),

crossing Salisbury Plain on a bicycle:

And he and the crew are on bicycles too - which they've somehow or

other invested in -

And he's telling the tars all the particuLARS of a company he's

interested in -

It's a scheme of devices, to get at low prices, all goods from

cough mixtures to cables

(Which tickled the sailors) by treating retailers, as though they

were all vegeTAbles -

You get a good spadesman to plant a small tradesman (first take off

his boots with a boot-tree),

And his legs will take root, and his fingers will shoot, and

they'll blossom and bud like a fruit-tree -

From the greengrocer tree you get grapes and green pea,

cauliflower, pineapple, and cranberries,

While the pastry-cook plant cherry-brandy will grant - apple puffs,

and three-corners, and banberries -

The shares are a penny, and ever so many are taken by ROTHSCHILD

and BARING,

And just as a few are allotted to you, you awake with a shudder

despairing -

You're a regular wreck, with a crick in your neck, and no wonder

you snore, for your head's on the floor, and you've needles and

pins from your soles to your shins, and your flesh is a-creep, for

your left leg's asleep, and you've cramp in your toes, and a fly on

your nose, and some fluff in your lung, and a feverish tongue, and

a thirst that's intense, and a general sense that you haven't been

sleeping in clover;

But the darkness has passed, and it's daylight at last, and the

night has been long - ditto, ditto my song - and thank goodness

they're both of them over!

~ W.S. Gilbert

The Smoking World

Tobacco is a dirty weed:

I like it.

It satisfies no normal need:

I like it.

It makes you thin, it makes you lean,

It takes the hair right off your bean,

Its the worst darn stuff I've ever seen:

I like it.

~ Graham Lee Hemminger

How Doth the Little Crocodile

How doth the little crocodile 

Improve his shining tail;

And pour the waters of the Nile 

On every golden scale! 

How cheerfully he seems to grin, 

How neatly spreads his claws, 

And welcomes little fishes in, 

With gently smiling jaws!

~ Lewis Carroll

The Pobble Who Has No Toes

The Pobble who has no toes

Had once as many as we;

When they said, 'Some day you may lose them all;'--

He replied, -- 'Fish fiddle de-dee!'

And his Aunt Jobiska made him drink,

Lavender water tinged with pink,

For she said, 'The World in general knows

There's nothing so good for a Pobble's toes!'

The Pobble who has no toes,

Swam across the Bristol Channel;

But before he set out he wrapped his nose,

In a piece of scarlet flannel.

For his Aunt Jobiska said, 'No harm

'Can come to his toes if his nose is warm;

'And it's perfectly known that a Pobble's toes

'Are safe, -- provided he minds his nose.'

The Pobble swam fast and well

And when boats or ships came near him

He tinkedly-binkledy-winkled a bell

So that all the world could hear him.

And all the Sailors and Admirals cried,

When they saw him nearing the further side,--

'He has gone to fish, for his Aunt Jobiska's

'Runcible Cat with crimson whiskers!'

But before he touched the shore,

The shore of the Bristol Channel,

A sea-green Porpoise carried away

His wrapper of scarlet flannel.

And when he came to observe his feet

Formerly garnished with toes so neat

His face at once became forlorn

On perceiving that all his toes were gone!

And nobody ever knew

From that dark day to the present,

Whoso had taken the Pobble's toes,

In a manner so far from pleasant.

Whether the shrimps or crawfish gray,

Or crafty Mermaids stole them away --

Nobody knew; and nobody knows

How the Pebble was robbed of his twice five toes!

The Pobble who has no toes

Was placed in a friendly Bark,

And they rowed him back, and carried him up,

To his Aunt Jobiska's Park.

And she made him a feast at his earnest wish

Of eggs and buttercups fried with fish;--

And she said,-- 'It's a fact the whole world knows,

'That Pebbles are happier without their toes.'

~ Edward Lear

There Was a Man So Wise

There was a Man so wise, 

He jumped into 

A Bramble Bush,

 And scratcht out both his eyes. 

And when he saw,

His Eyes were out, 

And had reason to Complain,

He jumpt into a Quickset Hedge,

And Scratcht them in again.

~ Anonymous

Three Young Rats with Black Felt Hats

Three young rats with black felt hats,

Three young ducks with white straw flats,

Three young dogs with curling tails,

Three young cats with demi-veils,

Went out to walk with two young pigs

In satin vests and sorrel wings,

But suddenly it chanced to rain

And so they all went home again.

~ Anonymous

Disgusting

In the boarding house where I live

Things are getting very old.

Long gray hairs in the butter,

 And the cheese is green with mold,

When the dog died we had sausage,

 When the cat died, catnip tea.

When the landlord died I left it; 

Spareribs are too much for me.

~ Anonymous

Dried Apple Pies

I loathe, abhor, detest, despise,

Abominate dried-apple pies.

I like good bread, I like good meat,

Or anything that's fit to eat;

But of all poor grub beneath the skies,

The poorest is dried apple pies.

Give me the toothache, or sore eyes,

But don't give me dried apple pies.

The farmer takes his gnarliest fruit,

'Tis wormy, bitter, and hard, to boot;

He leaves the hulls to make us cough,

And don't take half the peeling off.

Then on a dirty cord 'tis strung

And in a garret window hung,

And there it serves as roost for flies,

Until it's made up into pies.

Tread on my corns, or tell me lies,

But don't pass me dried-apple pies.

~ Anonymous

To a Segar

Sweet antidote to sorrow, toil and strife,

Charm against discontent and wrinkled care,

Who knows thy power can never know despair;

Who knows thee not, one solace lacks of life:

When cares oppress, or when the busy day

Gives place to tranquil eve, a single puff

Can drive ev'n want and lassitude away,

And give a mourner happiness enough.

From thee when curling clouds of incense rise,

They hide each evil that in prospect lies;

But when in evanescence fades thy smoke,

Ah! what, dear sedative, my cares shall smother?

If thou evaporate, the charm is broke,

Till I, departing taper, light another.

~ Samuel Low

Too Great a Sacrifice

The maid, as by the papers doth appear, 

Whom fifty thousand dollars made so dear, 

To test Lothario’s passion, simply said, 

“Forego the weed before we go to wed. 

For smoke take flame; I ’ll be that flame’s bright fanner.

To have your Anna, give up your Havana.” 

But he, when thus she brought him to the scratch, 

Lit his cigar and threw away his match.

~ Anonymous