The Mayor of Scuttleton burned his nose Trying to warm his copper toes; He lost his money and spoiled his will By signing his name with an icicle-quill; He went bare-headed, and held his breath, And frightened his grandame most to death; He loaded a shovel, and tried to shoot, And killed the calf in the leg of his boot; He melted a snow-bird, and formed the habit Of dancing jigs with a sad Welsh rabbit; He lived on taffy, and taxed the town; And read his newspaper upside down; Then he sighed, and hung his hat on a feather, And bade the townspeople come together; But the worst of it all was, nobody knew What the Mayor of Scuttleton next would do. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FLUTE-PRIEST SONG FOR RAIN; CEREMONIAL AT THE SUN SPRING by AMY LOWELL ADELAIDE AND JOHN WILKES BOOTH by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THIRD BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 26. FIRST LOVE by THOMAS CAMPION UPON THE DEATH OF MY EVER CONSTANT FRIEND DOCTOR DONNE, DEAN OF PAUL'S by HENRY KING (1592-1669) TO THE UNKNOWN EROS: BOOK 1: 16. A FAREWELL by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE |