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Read Ebook: The Bee's Bayonet (a Little Honey and a Little Sting) Camouflage in Word Painting by Watrous Edwin Alfred
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Ebook has 220 lines and 24827 words, and 5 pages
Assembled here my Wife is, Helen Nation: 'Twas gasoline that caused the separation, Which shows how very short the mortal lease is,-- I think 'twas lucky to have saved the pieces!
Here let me rest without a sigh or tear, I've learned my lesson--not to interfere! If I could live my mortal life agin I'd be a pussyfoot and not butt in.
He called me "Liar!" Like a flash My honor I defended, Until his razor cut a gash So deep, that I was ended. If I could live my life again I'd not invite an issue But say, when villified, Amen! And thus preserve my tissue.
THE CONQUEST OF THE SUN
The Morning Sun, with golden dart, Crept to Milady's bed; And as he drew the screens apart A halo crowned her head.
Such radiance he'd never viewed; Enraptured, he surveyed Her virgin charms: beatitude! He stooped and kissed the maid.
Entranced because her splendor seemed To dazzle as it shone, He conjured all his wiles and beamed Her burning cheeks upon.
And then she woke, Milady fair, Enchanted by his art, To find, 'midst fires a slumb'ring there, His dart had pierced her heart.
And so the Morning Sun can gain Milady when he tries, But Midnight Sons must lose, 'tis plain, Because they're late to rise.
OWED TO A ROACH
THE MOODS OF THE WINDS
O, Breezes of Spring! How they rollick and ring With delight as they sing Like birds on the wing.
O, Zephyrs of May! With your balm and bouquet; How you gladden the day Like Fairies at play.
O, Winds of the Fall! How they thrill and enthrall, How they hurtle and call With shrill caterwaul.
O, Winter's bleak Breath! How it freezes and saith To the ice-vested wraith, "Thou'rt shrouded in Death."
'Tis said that Mary, she of Reader note, Was wrapped up in her lamb--her lambskin coat-- E'en after his demise, beatified. He served her well, and for his mistress dyed.
Then Mary died, and took angelic form, Because the lambskin Gave her the anthrax: what a cruel blow To be thus snatched above from furbelow!
TWENTY-THIRD PSALM
My Shepherd careth for His flock: Beneath a cloudless sky In pastures green, by spring-cleft rock, In luxury I lie.
Though Poverty attend my way And sorrow fills my heart, Thy Guidance will disaster stay, So good and pure Thou art!
Thou, in the presence of my foes, Bestoweth favors rare, And giveth pleasure and repose In answer to my prayer.
To such a Shepherd I will give My everlasting love, And glory in the Hope--to live With Him, at last, Above.
FRIENDSHIP
PARAMOUNT PROBLEMS
A REUNION
THE CRUISE OF THE SQUIRREL
Somewhere, sometime, I've heard it said, or read That Fools butt in where Angels fear to tread. A single "Angel" with a Pack of Fools Is not enough to change established rules; And so, I think, the "Angel" in this case Should bear, alone, the onus and disgrace,-- For Angels should know better than to swoop Upon the Dove of Peace and fowl her coop. The Good Ship Squirrel has left our shores behind To measure human breath 'gainst Ocean Wind. "Laden with Nuts" her clearance shows. Four Bells! She's off! to fight for Peace with all those shells. No Port, however, figures in her quest, Her "papers" show,--and this is manifest!
The Dove of Peace, perched on the mizzen-top, Hath disappointments sticking in her crop. The peaceful bird is shy and very frail; Can't stand the weight of salt upon her tail; The War has made her nervous, and the roar Of many cannon made the poor bird soar.
Up springs a storm! The Dove's white feathers show, While Nuts are cracking on the deck below. And then an iceberg looms against the sky, But still the Dove is far too proud to fly; But when, anon, a periscope appears The Bird of Peace is overcome by fears, And "beats it" to the iceberg's crystal crest, Where she prepares to build her neutral nest.
Regenerate, the Angel has returned From empyrean Flight, to Earth, and learned To keep the Pacifistic Germ on ice Until a Luther, if there still remains One decent man where Wilhelm Caesar reigns, Denounces all the crimes of Germany, And proselytes to crush Autocracy.
JINGLES
Horner boy Jack Had the right knack; Cornered the snack. His fortune grew fast from that one Christmas plum; His profits on 'Change showed a marvelous sum, Till he soon had Financialdom under his thumb. O! what a wiz! Jack knew his biz: All now is his.
Old Lady Drew Lived in a shoe: Children there too. Their home was too cramped for a dozen or more, But others have suffered from tight shoes before, So the latch-string was always hung out on the door. To upper skies Good old sole flies, With all her ties.
The Drews and Jack Horner lived on the same street: Jack gambled with Hymen and Drew Marguerite, And love for his sole-mate affected his feet. There ne'er was a "comeback" to poor Jack and Jill; The King followed after them going "down hill," And Bo, left alone, is a sheepish maid still.
THE WEIGHT OF LOVE
I was sitting in the parlor With my Sweetheart on my knee, And the fireplace lights and shadows Silhouetted her and me.
Flesh is weak and so I shifted My loved load, as best I could, From the numb knee to the other; From the leg of flesh to wood.
DO IT!
Dare to do it! You'll not rue it If you save some Human Craft From the rocks where fierce gales blew it, Using Kindness for a raft.
O, dare to do! Be kind and true To the friends you make thru life; Then High Heaven will reward you With immunity from strife.
AMENITIES
The Parson tied the Hymen knot That made two halves a whole; The while a speculating what Would be his marriage toll.
The Groom, when he had kissed the Bride, Was taken with the chills: Her icy lips could not abide Osculatory thrills.
But soon his fever was effaced; His hand obeyed his will, And in the Parson's palm he placed A soiled One Dollar Bill.
"Anathema!" the preacher cried,-- "Thou reptile of the Earth!" The Groom replied--"Then take the Bride! I think it's all she's worth!"
"DANSER SUR UN VULCAN"
Now goeth forth the Swell elite, With patent leathers on his feet; With collar spotless, cuffs to suit, In truth bon-ton, from hat to boot.
A bootblack, with an eye to biz, With dirty hands and ugly phiz, Beholds him as he goes, and throws Banana peels beneath his toes.
Along the pave Adonis trips; He steps upon the peel, and slips Into the juicy gutter: His eyes are filled with fire and ire, But water, muck and mire conspire To drown the words he'd utter.
L'ENVOI
AT THE BULGING UDDER TIME
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