As I stood upon the sandy beach
One morn near Pentland Ferry,
Look at itsy-bitsy Mitzi!
See her figure slim and ritzy!
Yes, I am Bluebeard, and my name
Is one that children cannot stand;
Virtue its own reward? Alas!
And what a poor one as a rule!
Most chivalrous fish of the ocean
To ladies forbearing and mild,
(A manuscript found in a bottle)
"What meks tha sit so quate, to-neet? Come, hesta nowt to say?
Tha coom i' th' heawse an' never spooak o t' time tha geet thi
Cap of silk moiré, little wand of ivory,
Clothes very dark.
What is Enough? An idle dream!
One cannot have enough, I swear,
In the days when every seaport had its figureheads to show —
Queens, princesses, sea-nymphs, witches, girls of all sorts, row
I'd Rather Have Habits Than Clothes,
For that's where my intellect shows.
When I was bound apprentice, and learned to use my hands,
Folk never talked of measures that came from foreign lands:
Unscrupulous pigmongers will
Attempt to wheedle and to coax
"Mamma, what noises do I hear?
They keep me wide awake."
THERE was a tracker in the force
Of wondrous sight (the story ran):—
When I was a lad
No more than a nipper
How many times in years gone by,
My faithful grid have you and I
Said the Landlord to the Tenant,
"I want to make it clear,
Napoleon was a little guy:
They used to call him Shorty.
OH light as the foam on the Plover,
That mottles that magical stream;
An honest man what loves his trade
Deserves me honest grip;
I First Round
Prune extract and bright alcohol, so wooden
Are you struck with her figure and face?
How lucky you happened to meet
“Sailor, Sailor, why did you go —
Why did you go for a sailor?
I HAF von funny leedle poy,
Vot gomes schust to mine knee;
I wish I owned a Dior dress
Made to my order out of satin.
Oh! The present is gay,
And the future is bright.
"O MEN of dark and dismal fate,"
A prey to typographic terrors,
Ten thousand trippers took twenty three trains
To take them to Trincomalee.
Why — can anybody say? —
Has upon my natal day
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