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Лир Эдвард

VI

They rode through he street, and they rode by the station,They galloped away to the beautiful shore;In silence they rode, and «made no observation»,Save this: “We will never go back any more!”And still you might hear, till they rode out of hearing,The Sugar-tongs snap, and the Crackers say “crack!”Till far in the distance their forms disappearing,They faded away. – And they never come back!

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!”

The Pobble who has no toes

I

The Pobble who has no toesHas once as many, as we;When they said, “Some day you may lose them all;” —Hereplied, – “Fish fiddle de-dee!”And his Aunt Jobiska made him drink,Lavender water tinged with pink,For she said, “The World in general knowsThere’s nothing so good for a Pobble’s toes!”

II

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 harmCan come to his toes if his nose is warm;And it’s perfectly known that a Pobble’s toesAre safe, – provided he minds his nose.»

III

The Pobble swam fast and wellAnd when boats or ships came near himHe tinkledy-binkledy-winkled a bellSo 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’sRuncible Cat with crimson whiskers!”

IV

But before he touched the shore,The shore of Bristol Channel,A sea-green Porpoise carried awayHis wrapper of scarlet flannel.And when he came to observe his feetFormely garnished with toes so neatHis face at once became forlornOn perceiving that all his toes were gone!

V

And nobody ever knewFrom that dark day to the present,

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