The Book of Humorous Verse Part 180

_W. S. Gilbert._

THE s.h.i.+PWRECK

Upon the p.o.o.p the captain stands, As starboard as may be; And pipes on deck the topsail hands To reef the topsail-gallant strands Across the briny sea.

"Ho! splice the anchor under-weigh!"

The captain loudly cried; "Ho! lubbers brave, belay! belay!

For we must luff for Falmouth Bay Before to-morrow's tide."

The good s.h.i.+p was a racing yawl, A spare-rigged schooner sloop, Athwart the bows the taffrails all In grummets gay appeared to fall, To deck the mainsail p.o.o.p.

But ere they made the Foreland Light, And Deal was left behind, The wind it blew great gales that night, And blew the doughty captain tight, Full three sheets in the wind.

And right across the tiller head The horse it ran apace, Whereon a traveller hitched and sped Along the jib and vanished To heave the trysail brace.

What s.h.i.+p could live in such a sea?

What vessel bear the shock?

"Ho! starboard port your helm-a-lee!

Ho! reef the maintop-gallant-tree, With many a running block!"

And right upon the Scilly Isles The s.h.i.+p had run aground; When lo! the stalwart Captain Giles Mounts up upon the gaff and smiles, And slews the compa.s.s round.

"Saved! saved!" with joy the sailors cry, And scandalize the skiff; As taut and hoisted high and dry They see the s.h.i.+p unstoppered lie Upon the sea-girt cliff.

And since that day in Falmouth Bay, As herring-fishers trawl, The younkers hear the boatswains say How Captain Giles that awful day Preserved the sinking yawl.

_E. H. Palmer._

UFFIA

When sporgles spanned the floreate mead And cogwogs gleet upon the lea, Uffia gopped to meet her love Who smeeged upon the equat sea.

Dately she walked aglost the sand; The boreal wind seet in her face; The moggling waves yalped at her feet; Pangw.a.n.gling was her pace.

_Harriet R. White._

'TIS SWEET TO ROAM

'Tis sweet to roam when morning's light Resounds across the deep; And the crystal song of the woodbine bright Hushes the rocks to sleep, And the blood-red moon in the blaze of noon Is bathed in a crumbling dew, And the wolf rings out with a glittering shout, To-whit, to-whit, to-whoo!

_Unknown._

THREE JOVIAL HUNTSMEN

There were three jovial huntsmen, As I have heard them say, And they would go a-hunting All on a summer's day.

All the day they hunted, And nothing could they find But a s.h.i.+p a-sailing, A-sailing with the wind.

One said it was a s.h.i.+p, The other said Nay; The third said it was a house With the chimney blown away.

And all the night they hunted, And nothing could they find; But the moon a-gliding, A-gliding with the wind.

One said it was the moon, The other said Nay; The third said it was a cheese, And half o't cut away.

_Unknown._

KING ARTHUR

When good King Arthur ruled the land, He was a goodly king: He stole three pecks of barley meal, To make a bag-pudding.

A bag-pudding the king did make, And stuffed it well with plums; And in it put great lumps of fat, As big as my two thumbs.

The king and queen did eat thereof, And n.o.blemen beside; And what they could not eat that night, The queen next morning fried.

_Unknown._

HYDER IDDLE

Hyder iddle diddle dell, A yard of pudding is not an ell; Not forgetting tweedle-dye, A tailor's goose will never fly.

_Unknown._