LIMERICKS

I

There was an old man with a beard,
Who said, "It is just what I feared!
Two owls and a hen,

Four larks and a wren,

Have all built their nests in my beard!"

- EDWARD LEAR

2

There was an old man who said, "How
Shall I flee from this horrible cow?

I will sit on this stile

And continue to smile,

Which may soften the heart of that cow!"

- EDWARD LEAR

3

There once was an old kangaroo,
Who painted his children sky-blue;
When his wife said, "My dear,
Don't you think they look queer?"
He replied, "I don't know but they do."

4

I'd rather have fingers than toes,
I'd rather have ears than a nose,
And as for my hair,

I'm glad it's all there,

I'll be awfully sad when it goes.

- Unknown

GELETT BURGESS

One morning remarked to his granny, "A canner can can

Anything that he can,

But a canner can't can a can, can he?”

Were imprisoned, so what could they do?
Said the fly, "Let us flee,”

Said the flea, "Let us fly,'

So they flew through a flaw in the flue.

9

There was a young lady of Niger
Who smiled as she rode on a tiger;
They returned from the ride

With the lady inside,

And the smile on the face of the tiger.

COSMO MONKHOUSE

HORATIUS AT THE BRIDGE

THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY

Lars Porsena of Clusium

By the Nine Gods he swore
That the great house of Tarquin

Should suffer wrong no more.
By the Nine Gods he swore it,
And named a trysting day,
And bade his messengers ride forth
East and west and south and north,
To summon his array.

East and west and south and north
The messengers ride fast,
And tower and town and cottage
Have heard the trumpet blast.
Shame on the false Etruscan

Who lingers in his home,
When Porsena of Clusium

Is on the march for Rome.

The horsemen and the footmen
Are pouring in amain

From many a stately market place;

From many a fruitful plain;

From many a lonely hamlet,

Which hid by beech and pine,

Like an eagle's nest, hangs on the crest Of purple Apennine.

And now hath every city
Sent up her tale of men;
The foot are fourscore thousand,
The horse are thousands ten.
Before the gates of Sutrium
Is met the great array.
A proud man was Lars Porsena
Upon the trysting day.

But by the yellow Tiber
Was tumult and affright:
From all the spacious champaign
To Rome men took their flight.
A mile around the city,

The throng stopped up the ways;
A fearful sight it was to see

Through two long nights and days.

And droves of mules and asses
Laden with skins of wine,

And endless flocks of goats and sheep,
And endless herds of kine,

And endless trains of wagons

That creaked beneath the weight
Of corn sacks and of household goods,
Choked every roaring gate.

The Fathers held a council

Before the River Gate.

Short time was there, ye well may guess,

For musing or debate..

Just then a scout came flying,

All wild with haste and fear; "To arms! to arms! Sir Consul, Lars Porsena is here."

And nearer fast and nearer

Doth the red whirlwind come;
And louder still and still more loud,
From underneath that rolling cloud,
Is heard the trumpet's war note proud,
The trampling and the hum.
And plainly and more plainly
Now through the gloom appears,
Far to left and far to right,

In broken gleams of dark-blue light,
The long array of helmets bright,
The long array of spears.

The Consul's brow was sad,

And the Consul's speech was low, And darkly looked he at the wall, And darkly at the foe.

"Their van will be upon us

Before the bridge goes down; And if they once may win the bridge, What hope to save the town?"

Then out spake brave Horatius,
The Captain of the Gate:
"To every man upon this earth

Death cometh soon or late.