A Parody Anthology. Wells Carolyn
Seven-up and run the Number Nine.
She looked down to blush, but she looked up again
For she well understood the wink in his eye;
He took her soft hand ere her mother could
Interfere, “Now tread we a measure; first four
Half right and left; swing," cried young Lochinvar.
One touch to her hand and one word in her ear,
When they reached the hall-door and the charger
Stood near on three legs eating post-hay;
So light to the croup the fair lady he swung,
Then leaped to the saddle before her.
“She is won! we are gone! over bank! bush, and spar,
They'll have swift steeds that follow" – but in the
Excitement of the moment he had forgotten
To untie the horse, and the poor brute could
Only gallop in a little circus around the
Hitching-post; so the old gent collared
The youth and gave him the awfullest lambasting
That was ever heard of on Canobie Lee;
So dauntless in war and so daring in love,
Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?
The bride kissed the goblet, the knight took it up,
He quaffed off the nectar and threw down the mug,
Smashing it into a million pieces, while
He remarked that he was the son of a gun
From Seven-up and run the Number Nine.
She looked down to blush, but she looked up again
For she well understood the wink in his eye;
He took her soft hand ere her mother could
Interfere, “Now tread we a measure; first four
Half right and left; swing," cried young Lochinvar.
One touch to her hand and one word in her ear,
When they reached the hall-door and the charger
Stood near on three legs eating post-hay;
So light to the croup the fair lady he swung,
Then leaped to the saddle before her.
“She is won! we are gone! over bank! bush, and spar,
They'll have swift steeds that follow" – but in the
Excitement of the moment he had forgotten
To untie the horse, and the poor brute could
Only gallop in a little circus around the
Hitching-post; so the old gent collared
The youth and gave him the awfullest lambasting
That was ever heard of on Canobie Lee;
So dauntless in war and so daring in love,
Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?
AFTER COLERIDGE
THE ANCIENT MARINER
IT is an Ancient Mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three —
In fact he coolly took my arm —
“There was a ship," quoth he.
“Bother your ships!" said I, “is this
The time a yarn to spin?
This is a wedding, don't you see,
And I am next of kin.
“The wedding breakfast has begun,
We're hungry as can be —
Hold off! Unhand me, longshore man!"
With that his hand dropt he.
But there was something in his eye,
That made me sick and ill,
Yet forced to listen to his yarn —
The Mariner'd had his will.
While Tom and Harry went their way
I sat upon a stone —
So queer on Fanny's wedding day
Me sitting there alone!
Then he began, that Mariner,
To rove from pole to pole,
In one long-winded, lengthened-out,
Eternal rigmarole,
About a ship in which he'd sailed,
Though whither, goodness knows,
Where “ice will split with a thunder-fit,"
And every day it snows.
And then about a precious bird
Of some sort or another,
That – was such nonsense ever heard? —
Used to control the weather!
Now, at this bird the Mariner
Resolved to have a shy,
And laid it low with his cross-bow —
And then the larks! My eye!
For loss of that uncommon fowl,
They couldn't get a breeze;
And there they stuck, all out of luck,
And rotted on the seas.
The crew all died, or seemed to die,
And he was left alone
With that queer bird. You never heard
What games were carried on!
At last one day he stood and watched
The fishes in the sea,
And said, “I'm blest!" and so the ship
Was from the spell set free.
And it began to rain and blow,
And as it rained and blew,
The dead got up and worked the ship —
That was a likely crew!
However, somehow he escaped,
And got again to land,
But mad as any hatter, say,
From Cornhill to the Strand.
For he believes that certain folks
Are singled out by fate,
To whom this cock-and-bull affair
Of his he must relate.
Describing all the incidents,
And painting all the scenes,
As sailors will do in the tales
They tell to the Marines.
Confound the Ancient Mariner!
I knew I should be late;
And so it was; the wedding guests
Had all declined to wait.
Another had my place, and gave
My toast; and sister Fan
Said “'Twas a shame. What could you want
With that seafaring man?"
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