William Makepeace Thackeray [1811-1863]

KAISER & CO

Der Kaiser auf der Vaterland Und Gott on high, all dings gommand; Ve two, ach don'd you understandt?

Meinself--und Gott.

He reigns in heafen, und always shall, Und mein own embire don'd vas shmall; Ein n.o.ble bair, I d.i.n.k you call Meinself--und Gott.

Vile some mens sing der power divine, Mein soldiers sing der "Wacht am Rhein,"

Und drink der healt in Rhenish wein Auf me--und Gott.

Dere's France dot swaggers all aroundt, She's ausgespieldt--she's no aggoundt; To mooch ve d.i.n.ks she don'd amoundt, Meinself--und Gott.

She vill not dare to fight again, But if she shouldt, I'll show her blain Dot Elsa.s.s und (in French) Lorraine Are mein--und Gott's.

Dere's grandma d.i.n.ks she's nicht shmall beer, Mit Boers und dings she interfere; She'll learn none runs dis hemisphere But me--und Gott.

She d.i.n.ks, goot frau, some ships she's got, Und soldiers mit der sgarlet goat; Ach! ve could knock dem--pouf! like dot, Meinself--und Gott.

In dimes auf peace, brebared for wars, I bear der helm und sbear auf Mars, Und care nicht for den dousant czars, Meinself--und Gott.

In short, I humor efery whim, Mit aspect dark und visage grim, Gott pulls mit me und I mit Him-- Meinself--und Gott.

Alexander Macgregor Rose [1846-1898]

NONGTONGPAW

John Bull for pastime took a prance, Some time ago, to peep at France; To talk of sciences and arts, And knowledge gained in foreign parts.

Monsieur, obsequious, heard him speak, And answered John in heathen Greek; To all he asked, 'bout all he saw, 'Twas, "Monsieur, je vous n'entends pas."

John, to the Palais-Royal come, Its splendor almost struck him dumb.

"I say, whose house is that there here?"

"House! Je vous n'entends pas, Monsieur."

"What, Nongtongpaw again!" cries John; "This fellow is some mighty Don: No doubt he's plenty for the maw,-- I'll breakfast with this Nongtongpaw."

John saw Versailles from Marli's height, And cried, astonished at the sight, "Whose fine estate is that there here?"

"State! Je vous n'entends pas, Monsieur."

"His? what, the land and houses too?

The fellow's richer than a Jew: On everything he lays his claw!

I should like to dine with Nongtongpaw."

Next tripping came a courtly fair, John cried, enchanted with her air, "What lovely wench is that there here?"

"Ventch! Je vous n'entends pas, Monsieur."

"What, he again? Upon my life!

A palace, lands, and then a wife Sir Joshua might delight to draw: I should like to sup with Nongtongpaw.

"But hold! whose funeral's that?" cries John.

"Je vous n'entends pas."--"What, is he gone?

Wealth, fame, and beauty could not save Poor Nongtongpaw, then, from the grave!

His race is run, his game is up,-- I'd with him breakfast, dine, and sup; But since he chooses to withdraw, Good night t' ye, Mounseer Nongtongpaw!"

Charles Dibdin [1745-1814]

THE LION AND THE CUB

How fond are men of rule and place, Who court it from the mean and base!

These cannot bear an equal nigh, But from superior merit fly.

They love the cellar's vulgar joke, And lose their hours in ale and smoke.

There o'er some petty club preside; So poor, so paltry, is their pride!

Nay, even with fools whole nights will sit, In hopes to be supreme in wit.

If these can read, to these I write, To set their worth in truest light.

A Lion-cub of sordid mind, Avoided all the lion kind; Fond of applause, he sought the feasts Of vulgar and ign.o.ble beasts; With a.s.ses all his time he spent, Their club's perpetual president.

He caught their manners, looks, and airs; An a.s.s in everything but ears!

If e'er his Highness meant a joke, They grinned applause before he spoke; But at each word what shouts of praise!

"Good G.o.ds! how natural he brays!"

Elate with flattery and conceit, He seeks his royal sire's retreat; Forward, and fond to show his parts, His Highness brays; the Lion starts.

"Puppy! that cursed vociferation Betrays thy life and conversation: c.o.xcombs, an ever-noisy race, Are trumpets of their own disgrace."

"Why so severe?" the Cub replies; "Our senate always held me wise!"

"How weak is pride," returns the sire: "All fools are vain when fools admire!

But know, what stupid a.s.ses prize, Lions and n.o.ble beasts despise."

John Gay [1685-1732]

THE HARE WITH MANY FRIENDS

Friendship, like love, is but a name, Unless to one you stint the flame.

The child, whom many fathers share, Hath seldom known a father's care.

'Tis thus in friendship; who depend On many, rarely find a friend.

A Hare, who, in a civil way, Complied with everything, like Gay, Was known by all the b.e.s.t.i.a.l train, Who haunt the wood, or graze the plain; Her care was never to offend, And every creature was her friend.

As forth she went at early dawn, To taste the dew-besprinkled lawn, Behind she hears the hunter's cries, And from the deep-mouthed thunder flies: She starts, she stops, she pants for breath; She hears the near advance of death; She doubles, to mislead the hound, And measures back her mazy round: Till, fainting in the public way, Half dead with fear she gasping lay.

What transport in her bosom grew, When first the Horse appeared in view!

"Let me," says she, "your back ascend, And owe my safety to a friend.

You know my feet betray my flight: To friendship every burden's light."

The Horse replied: "Poor honest Puss, It grieves my heart to see thee thus; Be comforted; relief is near, For all your friends are in the rear."

She next the stately Bull implored; And thus replied the mighty lord: "Since every beast alive can tell That I sincerely wish you well, I may, without offence, pretend, To take the freedom of a friend.