Parodies of the works of English & American authors, vol. I

Parodies

But the knowledge displayed
      By that heathen Pass-ee,
    And the answers he made
      Were quite frightful to see,
    For he rapidly floored the whole paper
      By about twenty minutes to three.

    Then I looked up at U--
      And he gazed upon me,
    I observed, "This won't do."
      He replied, "Goodness me!
    We are fooled by this artful young person."
      And he sent for that heathen Pass-ee.

    The scene that ensued
      Was disgraceful to view,
    For the floor it was strewed
      With a tolerable few
    Of the "tips" that Tom Crib had been hiding
      For the "subject he partially knew."

    On the cuff of his shirt
      He had managed to get
    What we hoped had been dirt,
      But which proved, I regret,
    To be notes on the rise of the Drama,
      A question invariably set.

    In his various coats
      We proceeded to seek,
    Where we found sundry notes
      And--with sorrow I speak--
    One of Bohn's publications, so useful
      To the student of Latin or Greek.

    In the crown of his cap
      Were the Furies and Fates,
    And a delicate map
      Of the Dorian States,
    And we found in his palms, which were hollow,
      What are frequent in palms--that is, dates;

    Which is why I remark,
      And my language is plain,
    That for plots that are dark
      And not always in vain,
    The Heathen Pass-ee is peculiar,
      Which the same I am free to maintain.

    _Light Green_ (W. Metcalfe and Son) Cambridge.

       *       *       *       *       *


A KISS IN THE DARK.

    Which I wish to remark,
      That a pleasure in vain
    Is a kiss in the dark
      When it leaveth a stain:
    And a maid who strikes quickly her colours
      When pressed, I shall never maintain.

    It was at a "surprise,"
      Where fair ladies are found
    To kill time, while it flies,
      With their beaux, who were bound
    On having a social re-union,
      At the cost of--well, more than a pound.

    Just here let me say
      To the ladies below,
    Who in polka display
      Their fantastic light _tow_,
    That their husbands, upstairs, also "poker"
      Yes, ladies, you well may cry "Owe!"

    If the husbands but knew
      How their wives flirt below,
    They would sing to them--"Glou!"
      For they'd stick to them so
    That the popinjays all would look elsewhere,
      Nor want for a trip of the toe.

    In the waltz I embraced
      A fair maid with soft eyes;
    O! the size of her waist
      Made me waste many sighs:
    And I likened her cheeks to red roses,
      And whispered, "Sweet love never dyes."

    Then together we strayed
      In the light of the moon,
    Where I kissed that sweet maid;
      She pretended to swoon,
    But her faint was a feint, so I kissed her
      Again, for I relished the boon,

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

Opening the text

General

Parodies of the works of English & American authors, vol. I

Parodies

But the knowledge displayed
      By that heathen Pass-ee,
    And the answers he made
      Were quite frightful to see,
    For he rapidly floored the whole paper
      By about twenty minutes to three.

    Then I looked up at U--
      And he gazed upon me,
    I observed, "This won't do."
      He replied, "Goodness me!
    We are fooled by this artful young person."
      And he sent for that heathen Pass-ee.

    The scene that ensued
      Was disgraceful to view,
    For the floor it was strewed
      With a tolerable few
    Of the "tips" that Tom Crib had been hiding
      For the "subject he partially knew."

    On the cuff of his shirt
      He had managed to get
    What we hoped had been dirt,
      But which proved, I regret,
    To be notes on the rise of the Drama,
      A question invariably set.

    In his various coats
      We proceeded to seek,
    Where we found sundry notes
      And--with sorrow I speak--
    One of Bohn's publications, so useful
      To the student of Latin or Greek.

    In the crown of his cap
      Were the Furies and Fates,
    And a delicate map
      Of the Dorian States,
    And we found in his palms, which were hollow,
      What are frequent in palms--that is, dates;

    Which is why I remark,
      And my language is plain,
    That for plots that are dark
      And not always in vain,
    The Heathen Pass-ee is peculiar,
      Which the same I am free to maintain.

    _Light Green_ (W. Metcalfe and Son) Cambridge.

       *       *       *       *       *


A KISS IN THE DARK.

    Which I wish to remark,
      That a pleasure in vain
    Is a kiss in the dark
      When it leaveth a stain:
    And a maid who strikes quickly her colours
      When pressed, I shall never maintain.

    It was at a "surprise,"
      Where fair ladies are found
    To kill time, while it flies,
      With their beaux, who were bound
    On having a social re-union,
      At the cost of--well, more than a pound.

    Just here let me say
      To the ladies below,
    Who in polka display
      Their fantastic light _tow_,
    That their husbands, upstairs, also "poker"
      Yes, ladies, you well may cry "Owe!"

    If the husbands but knew
      How their wives flirt below,
    They would sing to them--"Glou!"
      For they'd stick to them so
    That the popinjays all would look elsewhere,
      Nor want for a trip of the toe.

    In the waltz I embraced
      A fair maid with soft eyes;
    O! the size of her waist
      Made me waste many sighs:
    And I likened her cheeks to red roses,
      And whispered, "Sweet love never dyes."

    Then together we strayed
      In the light of the moon,
    Where I kissed that sweet maid;
      She pretended to swoon,
    But her faint was a feint, so I kissed her
      Again, for I relished the boon,

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

Parodies of the works of English & American authors, vol. I

Parodies of the works of English & American authors, vol. I

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