Like ancient hosts of Midian, I kneel, enslaved and tame, Before a modern Gideon, And Melville is his name! He grips me without pity, He binds me with a thong Of contrapuntal ditty, Of syncopated song! And in his sweet, seductive strains I hear the rattle of my chains! So, when you next behold me Perform a Turkey-trot, In fashion which (they've told me) Makes chaperones feel hot; Or with a strict adherence To rules of Bunny-hug, Combine the ape's appearance With manners of the Thug, I beg you won't find fault with me, But lay the blame on Melville G.! 'THE PIPES' The voice of the violoncello Brings peace and enjoyment to some, The cornet appeals to one fellow, Another enjoys a big drum; The horn and the bugle, of melody frugal, A third deems agreeably stirring, The twang of the zither, the piccolo's twitter, A fourth is preferring; But none who attains to the years known as riper Can fail to be moved by the pipes of the Piper! O Piper, processioning proudly Round tables where men sit at meat, Performing your pibrochs so loudly That no human voice can compete, What memories tender your dirges engender! Your wind-bag successfully squeezing, You stir the affections and wake recollections, Both painful and pleasing, That soothe (like a poultice) or sting (like a viper) The hearts that respond to the pipes of the Piper! O Piper, persistently plodding At dawn round some castle in Skye, Where guests (with their ears full of wadding) On couches of agony lie, No thrush in the thicket, no frog, and no cricket, No creature on land or in ocean, Expressing its passion in musical fashion, Can rouse such emotion As sets the most soulless of Sassenachs wiping The tears from his eyes at the sound of your piping! Though many may term you infestive, Discordant, or dull, as they please, Or say that your skirls are suggestive Of pigs being bitten by bees; There's nought so exciting, for marching or fighting, As sounds that your chanter produces; No strains so entrancing, for dining, or dancing, Or similar uses! In peace or in war, for civilian or 'sniper,' There's nothing on earth like the pipes of the Piper! MODERN DANCING When the Waltz was first invented, Grandmamma was much upset; Long she mourned, and loud lamented, Staid Quadrille and Minuet. In her eyes (a bit oldfashioned) Waltzing called for condemnation, As a somewhat too empassioned Form of social relaxation! Grandma, with averted head, Swept her daughters home to bed!