A Parody Anthology. Wells Carolyn. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Wells Carolyn
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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?

Anonymous.

      AFTER COLERIDGE

      THE ANCIENT MARINER

(The Wedding Guest's Version of the Affair from HisPoint of View)

      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?"

      I