Bumbleby
I
This is the legend of what befell
Farmer Bumbleby — down a well!
II
Farmer Bumbleby! one of those —
Broad of shoulders and square of toes —
That never lose, of their lives, a day
Nor know of a debt that they cannot pay.
With a hundred arms and an eye that scanned
Every finger of every hand.
Briareus — Argus! born to keep
A bank account with his bees and sheep.
One of that natural order, which
Ripens at forty and ripens — " rich! "
Richly! Rosily! ripened he
That busiest, burliest Bumbleby.
III
Farmer Bumbleby digged a w — ait!
Mutton! we won't anticipate.
Farmer Bumbleby owned a Ram,
Black as Egypt! a son of " Ham " ;
Sire (such was his lord's delight),
To flocks with never a fleck of — white,
Name of Legion! and now it fell
That Farmer Bumbleby digged his well!
IV
Forty feet from the surface, sheer
To gravel, tokening water near.
(A picket paling that rambled nigh
Veiled the pit from a careless eye,
Not too high for the running leap
Of an average fool of a frightened sheep!)
V
Something wrong with the well inside!
" Curse the curb! " — but it didn't slide.
" Master's hand is the oil, " said he;
Down he went like a — Bumblebee,
Down it went with a rumble; when —
What did enter those black-sheep then?
VI
Ham, and the whole of his colored kin,
Seized at once by the sire of sin!
First a frolic and then a flight;
Diabolical — headlong — right
For the little picket established nigh
The quarters of Farmer Bumbleby!
VII
Front the lightning! and if you will,
Hurl Niagara up the hill!
Cross the hurricane's path! but keep
Your chivalry clear of a charge of sheep.
VIII
Here they come with a stamp and stare!
Over the fence with a foot to spare!
Woolly cataract! first the sire,
Then the progeny, high and higher!
Mutton-Bedlam! and every sheep
Mad for the highest and lowest leap!
Over the wall with a demivolt,
Down the well like a catapult!
Endless? nay! for the hole is full
Up to the windlass, a well of Wool!
IX
'Twas August! the first went down at day!
The last came up when the skies were gray!
'Twas night when Bumbleby reached the air,
A picture! Paint him? I might despair,
But Black, the color is close and cheap,
And there's his likeness upon a sheep!
Deftly done! but a bolder sleight
That Artist's that ever un-paints him white!
X
Enough! may never your wit expel
Such a sick man from such a well!
We laid him out on the grass to cool
And he fainted — whispering " D — n all wool! "
He lived, but dwindled, that stricken man
From fat and rosy to gaunt and wan!
XI
A double horror oppressed his soul —
A mutton mountain in that black hole!
No rest his days and his nights no sleep,
Ever his morning — and — night-mare, Sheep!
All wool became, and we banished it,
Another name for " another fit! "
XII
At last we saw in his waning eye
That the man must change or the man must die;
We called the Doctor; he came in cloth,
And ordered, mortally, " Mutton-broth! "
XIII
Have you an uncle, whose name is Sam?
Has your uncle a pet black Ram?
Kind it were of his kin to tell
Your uncle of Bumbleby and his well.
This is the legend of what befell
Farmer Bumbleby — down a well!
II
Farmer Bumbleby! one of those —
Broad of shoulders and square of toes —
That never lose, of their lives, a day
Nor know of a debt that they cannot pay.
With a hundred arms and an eye that scanned
Every finger of every hand.
Briareus — Argus! born to keep
A bank account with his bees and sheep.
One of that natural order, which
Ripens at forty and ripens — " rich! "
Richly! Rosily! ripened he
That busiest, burliest Bumbleby.
III
Farmer Bumbleby digged a w — ait!
Mutton! we won't anticipate.
Farmer Bumbleby owned a Ram,
Black as Egypt! a son of " Ham " ;
Sire (such was his lord's delight),
To flocks with never a fleck of — white,
Name of Legion! and now it fell
That Farmer Bumbleby digged his well!
IV
Forty feet from the surface, sheer
To gravel, tokening water near.
(A picket paling that rambled nigh
Veiled the pit from a careless eye,
Not too high for the running leap
Of an average fool of a frightened sheep!)
V
Something wrong with the well inside!
" Curse the curb! " — but it didn't slide.
" Master's hand is the oil, " said he;
Down he went like a — Bumblebee,
Down it went with a rumble; when —
What did enter those black-sheep then?
VI
Ham, and the whole of his colored kin,
Seized at once by the sire of sin!
First a frolic and then a flight;
Diabolical — headlong — right
For the little picket established nigh
The quarters of Farmer Bumbleby!
VII
Front the lightning! and if you will,
Hurl Niagara up the hill!
Cross the hurricane's path! but keep
Your chivalry clear of a charge of sheep.
VIII
Here they come with a stamp and stare!
Over the fence with a foot to spare!
Woolly cataract! first the sire,
Then the progeny, high and higher!
Mutton-Bedlam! and every sheep
Mad for the highest and lowest leap!
Over the wall with a demivolt,
Down the well like a catapult!
Endless? nay! for the hole is full
Up to the windlass, a well of Wool!
IX
'Twas August! the first went down at day!
The last came up when the skies were gray!
'Twas night when Bumbleby reached the air,
A picture! Paint him? I might despair,
But Black, the color is close and cheap,
And there's his likeness upon a sheep!
Deftly done! but a bolder sleight
That Artist's that ever un-paints him white!
X
Enough! may never your wit expel
Such a sick man from such a well!
We laid him out on the grass to cool
And he fainted — whispering " D — n all wool! "
He lived, but dwindled, that stricken man
From fat and rosy to gaunt and wan!
XI
A double horror oppressed his soul —
A mutton mountain in that black hole!
No rest his days and his nights no sleep,
Ever his morning — and — night-mare, Sheep!
All wool became, and we banished it,
Another name for " another fit! "
XII
At last we saw in his waning eye
That the man must change or the man must die;
We called the Doctor; he came in cloth,
And ordered, mortally, " Mutton-broth! "
XIII
Have you an uncle, whose name is Sam?
Has your uncle a pet black Ram?
Kind it were of his kin to tell
Your uncle of Bumbleby and his well.
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