A New Song Plump as a partridge was I known, My cheeks as fat as butter grown, I melancholy as a cat, Am kept awake to weep; But she, insensible of that, Sound as a top can sleep. Hard is her heart as flint or stone, The god of Love at her approach Hearts sound as any bell or roach, Ah me! as thick as hops or hail Straight as my leg her shape appears, My heart would be scot-free from cares, As fine as five-pence is her mien, As soft as pap her kisses are, 755 As smooth as glass, as white as curds Sharp as her needle are her words, Brisk as a body-louse she trips, Sweet as a rose her breath and lips, Full as an egg was I with glee, Good Lord! how all men envied me! But false as hell, she, like the wind, If I and Molly could agree, Let who would take Peru! Till you grow tender as a chick, And warm as any toast. You'll know me truer than a die, And wish me better sped; Flat as a flounder when I lie, And as a herring dead. Sure as a gun she'll drop a tear And sigh, perhaps, and wish, When I am rotten as a pear, And mute as any fish. John Gay. The American Traveller 757 THE AMERICAN TRAVELLER To Lake Aghmoogenegamook All in the State of Maine, A man from Wittequergaugaum came "I am a traveller," said he, He took a tavern-bed that night, A week passed on, and next we find To that sequestered village called From thence he went to Absequoit, And there quite tired of MaineHe sought the mountains of Vermont, Upon a railroad train. Dog Hollow, in the Green Mount State, And then Skunk's Misery displayed By easy stages then he went To visit Devil's Den; And Scrabble Hollow, by the way, Did come within his ken. Then via Nine Holes and Goose Green He travelled through the State; And to Virginia, finally, Was guided by his fate. Within the Old Dominion's bounds, At Pole Cat, too, he spent a week, Then, with his carpet-bag in hand, From thence, into Negationburg Which having gained, he left the State, North Carolina's friendly soil Morn found him on the road again, At Bull's Tail, and Lick Lizard, too, The country all about Pinch Gut That the beholder thought it like But the plantations near Burnt Coat And made the wondering tourist feel The Zealless Xylographer At Tear Shirt, too, the scenery Most charming did appear, With Snatch It in the distance far, But, spite of all these pleasant scenes, That home is brightest, after all, So back he went to Maine, straightway; And now is making nutmegs at Moosehicmagunticook. 759 Robert H. Newell. THE ZEALLESS XYLOGRAPHER DEDICATED TO THE END OF THE DICTIONARY A XYLOGRAPHER started to cross the sea And as for singing, his cheeriest tone Or else, when the pain would sharper grow, And so it is likely he did not find On board Xenodochy to his mind. The fare was poor, and he was sure Xerofphagy he could not endure; Zoophagous surely he was, I aver, This dainty and starving Xylographer. Xylophagous truly he could not be No sickly vegetarian he! He'd have blubbered like any old Zeuglodon Had Xerophthalmia not come on. And the end of it was he never again In a Xanthic Xebec went sailing the main. Mary Mapes Dodge. |