SING, oh, rarest of roundelays! -- Sing the hilarity and delight Of our childhood's gurgling, giggling days! When our eyes were as twinkling-keen and bright And our laughs as thick as the stars at night, And our breasts volcanoes of pent hoorays! When we grouped together in secret mirth And sniggered at everything on earth -- But specially when strange visitors came And we learned, for instance, that their name was Fishback -- or Mothershead -- or Philpott -- or Dalrymple -- or Fullenwider -- or Applewhite -- or Hunnicut -- or Tubbs -- or Oldshoe! @3"'Oldshoe!' -- jeminy-jee!" thinks we@1 -- @3"Hain't that a funny name! -- tee-hee-hee!"@1 Barefoot racers from everywhere, We'd pelt in over the back-porch floor For "the settin'-room," and cluster there Like a clot of bees round an apple-core, And sleeve our noses, and pinafore Our smearcase-mouths, and slick our hair, And stare and listen, and try to look Like "Agnes" does in the old schoolbook, -- Till at last we'd catch the visitor's name, -- Reddinhouse, Lippscomb, or Burlingame, -- or Winkler -- or Smock -- or Tutewiler -- or Daubenspeck -- or Throckmorton -- or Rubottom -- or Bixler -- @3"'Bixler!' jeminy-jee!" thinks we -- "Hain't that a funny name! -- tee-hee-hee!"@1 . . . . . . . Peace! -- Let be! -- Fall away! -- Fetch loose! -- We can't have fun as we had fun @3then!@1 -- Shut up, Memory! -- what's the use? -- When the girls and boys of 8 and 10 Are now -- well, @3matronly,@1 or @3old men,@1 And Time has (so to say) "cooked our goose"! But ah! if we only @3could@1 have back The long-lost laughs that we now so lack And so vainly long for, -- how -- we -- @3could@1 Naturely wake up the neigh-ber-@3hood@1, over the still heterogenious names ever unrolling from the endless roster of orthographic actualities, -- such names -- for further instance of good faith -- simply such names as Vanderlip -- or Funkhouser -- or Smoot -- or Galbreath -- or Frybarger -- or Dinwiddie -- or Bouslog -- or Puterbaugh -- or Longnecker -- or Hartpence -- or Wiggins -- or Pangborn -- or Bowersox -- @3"Bowersox"! Gee! -- But alas! now we Taste salt tears in our "tee-hee-hee"!@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SONG OF THE MAD WOMAN'S SON by KAREN SWENSON A DREAM, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE ROMANCE OF THE SWAN'S NEST by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE BUGLER'S FIRST COMMUNION by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS DECEMBER by ELIZABETH V. AUVACHE TO JOHN DRYDEN, ESQ.; POET LAUREATE AND HISTOGRAPHER ROYAL by PHILIP AYRES |