The Wit and Humor of America Volume VIII Part 13

ICARUS

BY JOHN G. SAXE

I

All modern themes of poesy are spun so very fine, That now the most amusing muse, _e gratia_, such as mine, Is often forced to cut the thread that strings our recent rhymes, And try the stronger staple of the good old cla.s.sic times.

II

There lived and flourished long ago, in famous Athens town, One _Daedalus_, a carpenter of genius and renown; ('Twas he who with an _auger_ taught mechanics how to _bore_,-- An art which the philosophers monopolized before.)

III

His only son was _Icarus_, a most precocious lad, The pride of Mrs. Daedalus, the image of his dad; And while he yet was in his teens such progress he had made, He'd got above his father's size, and much above his trade.

IV

Now _Daedalus_, the carpenter, had made a pair of wings, Contrived of wood and feathers and a cunning set of springs, By means of which the wearer could ascend to any height, And sail about among the clouds as easy as a kite!

V

"O father," said young _Icarus_, "how I should like to fly!

And go like you where all is blue along the upper sky; How very charming it would be above the moon to climb, And scamper through the Zodiac, and have a high old time!

VI

"Oh wouldn't it be jolly, though,--to stop at all the inns; To take a luncheon at 'The Crab,' and tipple at 'The Twins'; And, just for fun and fancy, while careering through the air, To kiss the _Virgin_, tease the _Ram_, and bait the biggest _Bear_?

VII

"O father, please to let me go!" was still the urchin's cry; "I'll be extremely careful, sir, and won't go _very_ high; Oh if this little pleasure-trip you only will allow, I promise to be back again in time to fetch the cow!"

VIII

"You're rather young," said Daedalus, "to tempt the upper air; But take the wings, and mind your eye with very special care; And keep at least a thousand miles below the nearest star; Young lads, when out upon a lark, are apt to go too far!"

IX

He took the wings--that foolish boy--without the least dismay; His father stuck 'em on with wax, and so he soared away; Up, up he rises, like a bird, and not a moment stops Until he's fairly out of sight beyond the mountain-tops!

X

And still he flies--away--away; it seems the merest fun; No marvel he is getting bold, and aiming at the sun; No marvel he forgets his sire; it isn't very odd That one so far above the earth should think himself a G.o.d!

XI

Already, in his silly pride, he's gone too far aloft; The heat begins to scorch his wings; the wax is waxing soft; Down--down he goes!--Alas!--next day poor Icarus was found Afloat upon the aegean Sea, extremely damp and drowned!

L'ENVOI

The moral of this mournful tale is plain enough to all:-- Don't get above your proper sphere, or you may chance to fall; Remember, too, that borrowed plumes are most uncertain things; And never try to scale the sky with other people's wings!

VIVE LA BAGATELLE

("_Swift's Cheerful Creed_")

BY CLINTON SCOLLARD

A b.u.mper to the jolly Dean Who, in "Augustan" times, Made merriment for fat and lean In jocund prose and rhymes!

Ah, but he drove a pranksome quill!

With quips he wove a spell; His creed--he cried it with a will-- Was "_Vive la bagatelle!_"

Oh, there were reckless jesters then!

And when a man was. .h.i.t, He quick returned the stroke again With trenchant blade of wit.

'Twas parry, thrust, and counter-thrust That round the board befell; They quaffed the wine and crunched the crust With "_Vive la bagatelle!_"

How rang the genial laugh of Gay At Pope's defiant ire!

How Parnell's sallies brought in play The rapier wit of Prior!

And how o'er all the banter's shift-- The laughter's fall and swell-- Upleaped the great guffaw of Swift, With "_Vive la bagatelle!_"

O moralist, frown not so dark, Purse not thy lip severe; 'T will warm the heart if ye but hark The mirth of "yester year."

To-day we wear too grave a face; We slave,--we buy and sell; Forget a while mad Mammon's race In "_Vive la bagatelle!_"

A STACCATO TO O LE LUPE

BY BLISS CARMAN