The Tory: Perspectives and Poems: Dr Pratt Datta

The Courtship of the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo

The Courtship of the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo

Edward Lear 

On the Coast of Coromandel
   Where the early pumpkins blow,
      In the middle of the woods
   Lived the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.
Two old chairs, and half a candle,
One old jug without a handle--
      These were all his worldly goods,
      In the middle of the woods,
      These were all his worldly goods,
   Of the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo,
   Of the Yonghy-Bonghy Bo.

Once, among the Bong-trees walking
   Where the early pumpkins blow,
      To a little heap of stones
   Came the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.
There he heard a Lady talking,
To some milk-white Hens of Dorking--
      "'Tis the Lady Jingly Jones!
      On that little heap of stones
      Sits the Lady Jingly Jones!"
   Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo,
   Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

"Lady Jingly! Lady Jingly!
   Sitting where the pumpkins blow,
      Will you come and be my wife?"
   Said the Yongby-Bonghy-Bo.
"I am tired of living singly--
On this coast so wild and shingly--
      I'm a-weary of my life;
      If you'll come and be my wife,
      Quite serene would be my life!"
   Said the Yonghy-Bongby-Bo,
   Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

"On this Coast of Coromandel
   Shrimps and watercresses grow,
      Prawns are plentiful and cheap,"
Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.
"You shall have my chairs and candle,
And my jug without a handle!
      Gaze upon the rolling deep
      (Fish is plentiful and cheap);
      As the sea, my love is deep!"
   Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo,
   Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

Lady Jingly answered sadly,
   And her tears began to flow--
      "Your proposal comes too late,
   Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!
I would be your wife most gladly!"
(Here she twirled her fingers madly)
      "But in England I've a mate!
      Yes! you've asked me far too late,
      For in England I've a mate,
   Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!
   Mr. Yongby-Bonghy-Bo!

"Mr. Jones (his name is Handel--
   Handel Jones, Esquire, & Co.)
      Dorking fowls delights to send
   Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!
Keep, oh, keep your chairs and candle,
And your jug without a handle--
      I can merely be your friend!
      Should my Jones more Dorkings send,
      I will give you three, my friend!
   Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!
   Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!

"Though you've such a tiny body,
   And your head so large doth grow--
      Though your hat may blow away
   Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!
Though you're such a Hoddy Doddy,
Yet I wish that I could modi-
      fy the words I needs must say!
      will you please to go away
      That is all I have to say,
   Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!
   Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!"

Down the slippery slopes of Myrtle,
   Where the early pumpkins blow,
      To the calm and silent sea
   Fled the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.
There, beyond the Bay of Gurtle,
Lay a large and lively Turtle.
      "You're the Cove," he said, "for me;
      On your back beyond the sea,
      Turtle, you shall carry me!"
   Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo,
   Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

Through the silent-roaring ocean
   Did the Turtle swiftly go;
      Holding fast upon his shell
   Rode the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.
With a sad primeval motion
Towards the sunset isles of Boshen
      Still the Turtle bore him well.
      Holding fast upon his shell,
      "Lady Jingly Jones, farewell!"
   Sang the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo,
   Sang the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

From the Coast of Coromandel
   Did that Lady never go;
      On that heap of stones she mourns
   For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.
On that Coast of Coromandel,
In his jug without a handle
      Still she weeps, and daily moans;
      On that little heap of stones
      To her Dorking Hens she moans,
   For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo,
   For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

The Pronunciation Poem by Trenite

I take it you already know
Of tough and bough and cough and dough?
Others may stumble, but not you,
On hiccough, thorough, lough and through?
Well done! And now you wish, perhaps,
To learn of less familiar traps?

Beware of heard, a dreadful word
That looks like beard and sounds like bird,
And dead: it’s said like bed, not bead –
For goodness sake don’t call it deed!
Watch out for meat and great and threat
(They rhyme with suite and straight and debt).

A moth is not a moth in mother,
Nor both in bother, broth in brother,
And here is not a match for there
Nor dear and fear for bear and pear,
And then there’s dose and rose and lose –
Just look them up – and goose and choose,
And cork and work and card and ward,
And font and front and word and sword,
And do and go and thwart and cart –
Come, come, I’ve hardly made a start!
A dreadful language? Man alive!
I’d mastered it when I was five!

The Daddy Long Legs and the Fly by Edward Lear

THE DADDY LONG-LEGS AND THE FLY.

I.

Once Mr. Daddy Long-legs,
Dressed in brown and gray,Walked about upon the sands
Upon a summer's day:And there among the pebbles,
When the wind was rather cold,He met with Mr. Floppy Fly,
All dressed in blue and gold;And, as it was too soon to dine,
They drank some periwinkle-wine,
And played an hour or two, or more,
At battlecock and shuttledore.

II.

Said Mr. Daddy Long-legs
To Mr. Floppy Fly,"Why do you never come to court?
I wish you 'd tell me why.All gold and shine, in dress so fine,
You'd quite delight the court.Why do you never go at all?
I really think you ought.And, if you went, you'd see such sights!
Such rugs and jugs and candle-lights!
And, more than all, the king and queen,—
One in red, and one in green."

III.

"O Mr. Daddy Long-legs!"
Said Mr. Floppy Fly,"It's true I never go to court;
And I will tell you why.If I had six long legs like yours,
At once I'd go to court;But, oh! I can't, because my legs
Are so extremely short.And I'm afraid the king and queen
(One in red, and one in green)
Would say aloud, 'You are not fit,
You Fly, to come to court a bit!'"

IV.

"Oh, Mr. Daddy Long-legs!"
Said Mr. Floppy Fly,"I wish you 'd sing one little song,
One mumbian melody.You used to sing so awful well
In former days gone by;But now you never sing at all:
I wish you'd tell me why:For, if you would, the silvery sound
Would please the shrimps and cockles round,
And all the crabs would gladly come
To hear you sing, 'Ah, Hum di Hum!'"

V.

Said Mr. Daddy Long-legs,
"I can never sing again;And, if you wish, I'll tell you why,
Although it gives me pain.For years I cannot hum a bit,
Or sing the smallest song;And this the dreadful reason is,—
My legs are grown too long!My six long legs, all here and there,
Oppress my bosom with despair;
And, if I stand or lie or sit,
I cannot sing one single bit!"

VI.

So Mr. Daddy Long-legs
And Mr. Floppy FlySat down in silence by the sea,
And gazed upon the sky.They said, "This is a dreadful thing!
The world has all gone wrong,Since one has legs too short by half,
The other much too long.One never more can go to court,
Because his legs have grown too short;
The other cannot sing a song,
Because his legs have grown too long!"

VII.

Then Mr. Daddy Long-legs
And Mr. Floppy FlyRushed downward to the foamy sea
With one sponge-taneous cry:And there they found a little boat,
Whose sails were pink and gray;And off they sailed among the waves,
Far and far away:They sailed across the silent main,
And reached the great Gromboolian Plain;
And there they play forevermore
At battlecock and shuttledore.

The Duck and the Kangaroo by Edward Lear read by Pratt Datta

THE DUCK AND THE KANGAROO.

I.

Said the Duck to the Kangaroo,
"Good gracious! how you hopOver the fields, and the water too,
As if you never would stop!My life is a bore in this nasty pond;
And I long to go out in the world beyond:
I wish I could hop like you,"Said the Duck to the Kangaroo.

II.

"Please give me a ride on your back,"
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo:"I would sit quite still, and say nothing but 'Quack'
The whole of the long day through;And we 'd go the Dee, and the Jelly Bo Lee,
Over the land, and over the sea:
Please take me a ride! oh, do!"Said the Duck to the Kangaroo.

III.

Said the Kangaroo to the Duck,
"This requires some little reflection.Perhaps, on the whole, it might bring me luck;
And there seems but one objection;Which is, if you'll let me speak so bold,
Your feet are unpleasantly wet and cold,
And would probably give me the roo-Matiz," said the Kangaroo.

IV.

Said the Duck, "As I sate on the rocks,
I have thought over that completely;And I bought four pairs of worsted socks,
Which fit my web-feet neatly;And, to keep out the cold, I've bought a cloak;
And every day a cigar I'll smoke;
All to follow my own dear true Love of a Kangaroo."

V.

Said the Kangaroo, "I'm ready,
All in the moonlight pale;But to balance me well, dear Duck, sit steady,
And quite at the end of my tail."

So away they went with a hop and a bound;
And they hopped the whole world three times round.
And who so happy, oh! who,As the Duck and the Kangaroo?

A Child's History of England by Charles Dickens. Chapter XXII Part V

A Child's History of England by Charles Dickens. Chapter XXII Part V: The Duke of York and the beginning of the War of the Roses between Lancaster and York

A Child's History of England by Dickens Chapter 22 part IV

A Child's History of England by Dickens Chapter 22 part IV: Useless Henry the VI, Jack Cade's Kent Uprising and Death, and the rise of the Duke of York!

A Child's History of England by Charles Dickens. Chapter XXII Part III

A Child's History of England by Charles Dickens. Chapter XXII Part III: Joan of Arc's Capture and Death in 1431

A Child's History of England by Charles Dickens. Chapter XXII Part II. Joan of Arc's victory

A Child's History of England by Charles Dickens. Chapter XXII Part II. Joan of Arc's victory and Charles the Vii's coronation at Rheims

Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll

Jabberwocky

Lewis Carroll

 

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

      Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:

All mimsy were the borogoves,

      And the mome raths outgrabe.

 

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!

      The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun

      The frumious Bandersnatch!”

 

He took his vorpal sword in hand;

      Long time the manxome foe he sought—

So rested he by the Tumtum tree

      And stood awhile in thought.

 

And, as in uffish thought he stood,

      The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,

Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,

      And burbled as it came!

 

One, two! One, two! And through and through

      The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!

He left it dead, and with its head

      He went galumphing back.

 

“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?

      Come to my arms, my beamish boy!

O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”

      He chortled in his joy.

 

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

      Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:

All mimsy were the borogoves,

      And the mome raths outgrabe.

A Child's History of England by Charles Dickens. Chapter XXII Part I

A Child's History of England by Charles Dickens. Chapter XXII Part I: Henry the VI and the coming of Joan of Arc Part I