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(1850-1943 / the United States)

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Dog-Gerel

I sat beside a lady fair,
A lady grave and sweet;
Withal so wise, that well I might
Have sat me at her feet.
She stooped to pat the puppy dog
That gambolled at her knee;
And when she spoke, 't was in a tongue
Was wholly strange to me.

'A wizzy wizzy woggums, then!
A ditty dotty doggums, then!
And diddy wanty dumpy up?
A pitty witty pessums pup!'

I spoke to her of foreign climes,
Of politics and popes;
Of Bishop Bylow's pious rhymes,
And General Jingo's hopes.
She answered well and wittily,
Then turned her eyes aside,
And tenderly she whispered to
The creature by her side.

'A pupsy wupsy keeter, then!
Was never nossing sweether, then!
A teenty tawnty tiny tot,
A lovely dovely darling dot!'

I rose at length and strolled away,
Not wishing to intrude;
Yet thought perhaps she'd bid me stay,
And rather hoped she would.
But no! she never raised her head.
I turned the corner near,
And as I went, her silver tones
Still floated to my ear.

'A toodle toodle toodle, then!
A wisky wasky woodle, then!
A 'toopid manny gone, my joy,
My diddy doddy dorglums boy!'

Submitted: Friday, September 03, 2010


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