A MAD MEDLEY
Now 'tis March that loudly trumpets near and far,
And he whirls the aged shanghai off the bough,
And he quickly gets a focus
On the bosom of the crocus,
Which he bursts to gaily gild the inner cow.
The mosquito tunes his sandalwood guitar,
And the shad roe thumps his ribboned tambourine,
And the circus poster's shining,
And the bearded goat is dining
On the pink pyjamas dimpling on the green.
But on Spring's sounding shore
March roars the following roar:
"Rip, rap, flip, flap, riot and romp all day,
Ripping, zipping, slipping along over the meadows gray,
Wildly scooting, madly tooting out with the ships at play—
Oh, I'm a surly, burly bully, and out for a big hooray!"
Now the Ethiop is singing full of bliss
As he wallops on the wall the kalsomine,
And the fumes of soap and borax
Nimbly nail us on the thorax,
And the legend of the pill begins to shine:
Oh, the organ grinder's slipped his chrysalis,
And the monkey scampers blithely up the blinds
For the evanescent copper
Which 'tis eminently proper
Should begild the genial grinder as he grinds.
Yet March pipes in the trees
Such syllables as these:
"Rip, rap, flip, flap, roister and romp all day,
Jumping, slumping, bumping along over the town and away,
Grimly growling, harshly howling out with the ships at play—
Oh, I'm a surly, burly bully, and out for a big hooray!"
Now the lambkin's somersaulting on the slope,
And the mint upon the sauce begins to beam,
While the radish and the berry
Cast a nimbus more than merry
Round the dainty hocus-pocus of our dream.
Now Love dallies with the tender bud of hope,
And the chicken from the egg begins to pop,
And the flitting moth is sighted
Round the lamp of Spring, just lighted,
And the proud Bermuda onion is on top.
Still March, o'er marsh and mere,
Roars loud and sharp and clear:
"Rip, rap, flip, flap, rumpus and romp all day,
Clashing, crashing, smashing along, with never the time to stay,
Madly moaning, grimly groaning out with the ships at play—
Oh, I'm a surly, burly bully, and out for a big hooray!"
