Milton's Musings

THE OLD GUMBIE CAT I have a Gumbie Cat in mind, her name is Jennyanydots; Her coat is of the tabby kind, with tiger stripes and leopard spots. All day she sits upon the stair or on the steps or on the mat: She sits and sits and sits and sits—and that's what makes a Gumbie Cat! But when the day's hustle and bustle is done,         Then the Gumbie Cat's work is but hardly begun.         And when all the family's in bed and asleep,         She tucks up her skirts to the basement to creep.         She is deeply concerned with the ways of the mice—         Their behaviour's not good and their manners not nice;         So when she has got them lined up on the matting,         She teaches them music, crocheting and tatting. I have a Gumbie Cat in mind, her name is Jennyanydots; Her equal would be hard to find, she likes the warm and sunny spots. All day she sits beside the hearth or on the bed or on my hat: She sits and sits and sits and sits—and that's what makes a Gumbie Cat! But when the day's hustle and bustle is done,         Then the Gumbie Cat's work is but hardly begun.         As she finds that the mice will not ever keep quiet,         She is sure it is due to irregular diet         And believing that nothing is done without trying,         She sets right to work with her baking and frying.         She makes them a mouse-cake of bread and dried peas,         And a beautiful fry of lean bacon and cheese. I have a Gumbie Cat in mind, her name is Jennyanydots; The curtain-cord she likes to wind, and tie it into sailor-knots. She sits upon the window-sill, or anything that's smooth and flat: She sits and sits and sits and sits—and that's what makes a Gumbie Cat! But when the day's hustle and bustle is done,         Then the Gumbie Cat's work is but hardly begun.         She thinks that the cockroaches just need employment         To prevent them from idle and wanton destroyment.         So she's formed, from that lot of disorderly louts,         A troop of well-disciplined helpful boy-scouts,         With a purpose in life and a good deed to do—         And she's even created a Beetles' Tattoo. So for Old Gumbie Cats let us now give three cheers— On whom well-ordered households depend, it appears.

THE NAMING OF CATS The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,     It isn't just one of your holiday games; You may think at first I'm as mad as a hatter When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES. First of all, there's the name that the family use daily,     Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James, Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey—     All of them sensible everyday names. There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,     Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames: Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter—     But all of them sensible everyday names. But I tell you, a cat needs a name that's particular,     A name that's peculiar, and more dignified, Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,     Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride? Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,     Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat, Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum—     Names that never belong to more than one cat. But above and beyond there's still one name left over,     And that is the name that you never will guess; The name that no human research can discover—     But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess. When you notice a cat in profound meditation,     The reason, I tell you, is always the same: His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation     Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:         His ineffable effable         Effanineffable Deep and inscrutable singular Name.

Alphabet Poem by Edward Lear A     tumbled down, and hurt his Arm, against a bit of wood. B     said, "My Boy, O! do not cry' it cannot do you good!" C     said, "A Cup of Coffee hot can't do you any harm." D     said, "A Doctor should be fetched, and he would cure the arm." E     said, "An Egg beat up in milk would quickly make him well." F     said, "A Fish, if broiled, might cure, if only by the smell." G     said, "Green Gooseberry fool, the best of cures I hold." H     said, "His Hat should be kept on, keep him from the cold." I     said, "Some Ice upon his head will make him better soon." J     said, "Some Jam, if spread on bread, or given in a spoon." K     said, "A Kangaroo is here,—this picture let him see." L     said, "A Lamp pray keep alight, to make some barley tea." M     said, "A Mulberry or two might give him satisfaction." N     said, "Some Nuts, if rolled about, might be a slight attraction." O     said, "An Owl might make him laugh, if only it would wink." P     said, "Some Poetry might be read aloud, to make him think." Q     said, "A Quince I recommend,—A Quince, or else a Quail." R     said, "Some Rats might make him move, if fastened by their tail." S     said, "A Song should now be sung, in hopes to make him laugh!" T     said, "A Turnip might avail, if sliced or cut in half." U     said, "An Urn, with water hot, place underneath his chin!" V     said, "I'll stand upon a chair, and play a Violin!" W    said, "Some Whiskey-Whizzgigs fetch, some marbles and a ball!" X     said, "Some double XX ale would be the best of all!" Y     said, "Some Yeast mised up with salt would make a perfect plaster!" Z     said, "Here is a box of Zinc! Get in my little master!        We'll shut you up! We'll nail you down!        We will, my little master!        We think we've all heard quite enough of this sad disaster!"

https://poets.org/poem/courtship-yonghy-bonghy-bo 

 I take it you already know Of tough and bough and cough and dough Others may stumble, but not you On hiccough, thorough, laugh, and through. And cork and work and card and ward And font and front and word and sword Well done! And now if you wish, perhaps To learn of less familiar traps, Beware of heard, a dreadful word That looks like beard and sounds like bird. And dead: it’s said like bed, not bead– For goodness sakes don’t call it deed. Watch out for meat and great and threat, They rhyme with suite and straight and debt. A moth is not a moth in mother, Nor both in bother, broth in brother. And here is not a match for there, And dear and fear for bear and pear. And then there’s dose and rose and lose– Just look them up–and goose and choose, And do and go, then thwart and cart. Come, come, I’ve hardly made a start! A dreadful language? Man alive! I’d mastered it when I was five.

A Wise Old Owl" is an English nursery rhyme

THE OWL AND THE PUSSY-CAT. I. The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to sea In a beautiful pea-green boat:They took some honey, and plenty of money Wrapped up in a five-pound note.The Owl looked up to the stars above, And sang to a small guitar,"O lovely Pussy, O Pussy, my love, What a beautiful Pussy you are,You are,You are!What a beautiful Pussy you are!" II. Pussy said to the Owl, "You elegant fowl, How charmingly sweet you sing!Oh! let us be married; too long we have tarried: But what shall we do for a ring?"They sailed away, for a year and a day, To the land where the bong-tree grows;And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood, With a ring at the end of his nose,His nose,His nose,With a ring at the end of his nose. III. "Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling Your ring?" Said the Piggy, "I will."So they took it away, and were married next day By the Turkey who lives on the hill. They dined on mince and slices of quince, Which they ate with a runcible spoon;And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand, They danced by the light of the moon,The moon,The moon,They danced by the light of the moon.

The Pied Piper of Hamelin is a dark children's poem with the moral that  One should not break a promise, especially after receiving a favour! 

THE JUMBLIES. I. They went to sea in a sieve, they did; In a sieve they went to sea:In spite of all their friends could say, On a winter's morn, on a stormy day, In a sieve they went to sea.And when the sieve turned round and round, And every one cried, "You'll all be drowned!" They called aloud, "Our sieve ain't big; But we don't care a button, we don't care a fig: In a sieve we'll go to sea!" Far and few, far and few, Are the lands where the Jumblies live: Their heads are green, and their hands are blue And they went to sea in a sieve. II. They sailed away in a sieve, they did, In a sieve they sailed so fast,With only a beautiful pea-green veil Tied with a ribbon, by way of a sail, To a small tobacco-pipe mast.And every one said who saw them go, "Oh! won't they be soon upset, you know? For the sky is dark, and the voyage is long; And, happen what may, it's extremely wrong In a sieve to sail so fast."Far and few, far and few,Are the lands where the Jumblies live:Their heads are green, and their hands are blue;And they went to sea in a sieve. III. The water it soon came in, it did; The water it soon came in:So, to keep them dry, they wrapped their feet In a pinky paper all folded neat; And they fastened it down with a pin.And they passed the night in a crockery-jar; And each of them said, "How wise we are! Though the sky be dark, and the voyage be long, Yet we never can think we were rash or wrong, While round in our sieve we spin." Far and few, far and few, Are the lands where the Jumblies live: Their heads are green, and their hands are blue; And they went to sea in a sieve. IV. And all night long they sailed away; And when the sun went down,They whistled and warbled a moony song To the echoing sound of a coppery gong, In the shade of the mountains brown."O Timballoo! How happy we are When we live in a sieve and a crockery-jar! And all night long, in the moonlight pale, We sail away with a pea-green sail In the shade of the mountains brown."Far and few, far and few,Are the lands where the Jumblies live: Their heads are green, and their hands are blue; And they went to sea in a sieve. V. They sailed to the Western Sea, they did,— To a land all covered with trees:And they bought an owl, and a useful cart, And a pound of rice, and a cranberry-tart, And a hive of silvery bees;And they bought a pig, and some green jackdaws, And a lovely monkey with lollipop paws, And forty bottles of ring-bo-ree, And no end of Stilton cheese. Far and few, far and few, Are the lands where the Jumblies live: Their heads are green, and their hands are blue; And they went to sea in a sieve. VI. And in twenty years they all came back,— In twenty years or more;And every one said, "How tall they've grown! For they've been to the Lakes, and the Torrible Zone, And the hills of the Chankly Bore."And they drank their health, and gave them a feast Of dumplings made of beautiful yeast; And every one said, "If we only live, We, too, will go to sea in a sieve, To the hills of the Chankly Bore." Far and few, far and few, Are the lands where the Jumblies live: Their heads are green, and their hands are blue; And they went to sea in a sieve.

THE DADDY LONG-LEGS AND THE FLY. I. Once Mr. Daddy Long-legs, Dressed in brown and gray,Walked about upon the sands Upon a summer's day:And there among the pebbles, When the wind was rather cold,He met with Mr. Floppy Fly, All dressed in blue and gold;And, as it was too soon to dine, They drank some periwinkle-wine, And played an hour or two, or more, At battlecock and shuttledore. II. Said Mr. Daddy Long-legs To Mr. Floppy Fly,"Why do you never come to court? I wish you 'd tell me why.All gold and shine, in dress so fine, You'd quite delight the court.Why do you never go at all? I really think you ought.And, if you went, you'd see such sights! Such rugs and jugs and candle-lights! And, more than all, the king and queen,— One in red, and one in green." III. "O Mr. Daddy Long-legs!" Said Mr. Floppy Fly,"It's true I never go to court; And I will tell you why.If I had six long legs like yours, At once I'd go to court;But, oh! I can't, because my legs Are so extremely short.And I'm afraid the king and queen (One in red, and one in green) Would say aloud, 'You are not fit, You Fly, to come to court a bit!'" IV. "Oh, Mr. Daddy Long-legs!" Said Mr. Floppy Fly,"I wish you 'd sing one little song, One mumbian melody.You used to sing so awful well In former days gone by;But now you never sing at all: I wish you'd tell me why:For, if you would, the silvery sound Would please the shrimps and cockles round, And all the crabs would gladly come To hear you sing, 'Ah, Hum di Hum!'" V. Said Mr. Daddy Long-legs, "I can never sing again;And, if you wish, I'll tell you why, Although it gives me pain.For years I cannot hum a bit, Or sing the smallest song;And this the dreadful reason is,— My legs are grown too long!My six long legs, all here and there, Oppress my bosom with despair; And, if I stand or lie or sit, I cannot sing one single bit!" VI. So Mr. Daddy Long-legs And Mr. Floppy FlySat down in silence by the sea, And gazed upon the sky.They said, "This is a dreadful thing! The world has all gone wrong,Since one has legs too short by half, The other much too long.One never more can go to court, Because his legs have grown too short; The other cannot sing a song, Because his legs have grown too long!" VII. Then Mr. Daddy Long-legs And Mr. Floppy FlyRushed downward to the foamy sea With one sponge-taneous cry:And there they found a little boat, Whose sails were pink and gray;And off they sailed among the waves, Far and far away:They sailed across the silent main, And reached the great Gromboolian Plain; And there they play forevermore At battlecock and shuttledore.

Miltons Musings presents: The Duck and the Kangaroo by Edward Lear read by Pratt Datta