The Courtship of the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò

The Courtship of the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo

I.

On the Coast of Coromandel
           Where the early pumpkins blow,
                In the middle of the woods
     Lived the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.

Two old chairs, and half a candle,
One old jug without a handle,—
           These were all his worldly goods:
           In the middle of the woods,

           These were all the worldly goods
     Of the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò,

     Of the Yonghy-Bonghy Bò.
 

 

II.

Once, among the Bong-trees walking
      Where the early pumpkins blow,
          To a little heap of stones
      Came the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.

There he heard a Lady talking,
To some milk-white Hens of Dorking,—
                'Tis the Lady Jingly Jones!
                On that little heap of stones
                Sits the Lady Jingly Jones!"

     Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò,
     Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.


III.

"Lady Jingly! Lady Jingly!
      Sitting where the pumpkins blow,
          Will you come and be my wife?"

      Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.

"I am tired of living singly"—
On this coast so wild and shingly,—
           I'm a-weary of my life;
           If you'll come and be my wife,

           Quite serene would be my life!"

      Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò,

      Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.


IV.

"On this Coast of Coromandel
      Shrimps and watercresses grow,
          Prawns are plentiful and cheap,"
      Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.

"You shall have my chairs and candle,
And my jug without a handle!
           Gaze upon the rolling deep
           (Fish is plentiful and cheap);

           As the sea, my love is deep!"
      Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò,

      Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.


V.

Lady Jingly answered sadly,
       And her tears began to flow,—
           "Your proposal comes too late,
       Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò!

I would be your wife most gladly!"
(Here she twirled her fingers madly,)
           "But in England I've a mate!
            Yes! you've asked me far too late,
            For in England I've a mate,

      Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò!
      Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò!


VI.

"Mr. Jones (his name is Handel,—
      Handel Jones, Esquire, & Co.)
          Dorking fowls delights to send,

      Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò!

Keep, oh, keep your chairs and candle,
And your jug without a handle,—
           I can merely be your friend!
           Should my Jones more Dorkings send,
           I will give you three, my friend!

      Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò!
      Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò!


VII.

"Though you've such a tiny body,
       And your head so large doth grow,—
           Though your hat may blow away,

       Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò!

Though you're such a Hoddy Doddy,
Yet I wish that I could modi-
           fy the words I needs must say!
           Will you please to go away?

           That is all I have to say,
      Mr. Yongby-Bonghy-Bò!

      Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò!"


VIII.

Down the slippery slopes of Myrtle,
      Where the early pumpkins blow,
           To the calm and silent sea
      Fled the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.
There, beyond the Bay of Gurtle,
Lay a large and lively Turtle.
             "You're the Cove," he said, "for me;
             On your back beyond the sea,
             Turtle, you shall carry me!"
      Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò,

      Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.


The Courtship of the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo

IX.

Through the silent-roaring ocean
       Did the Turtle swiftly go;
            Holding fast upon his shell

       Rode the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.

With a sad primaeval motion
Towards the sunset isles of Boshen
            Still the Turtle bore him well.
            Holding fast upon his shell,

            "Lady Jingly Jones, farewell!"
      Sang the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò,
      Sang the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.


X.

From the Coast of Coromandel
       Did that Lady never go;
             On that heap of stones she mourns
       For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.

On that Coast of Coromandel,
In his jug without a handle
             Still she weeps, and daily moans;
             On that little heap of stones
             To her Dorking Hens she moans,
       For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò,

       For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.

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