Classic Poem

At three bells of the middle watch,
When all pure souls did sleep,
A brawling gang round 49
Their revels wild did keep.

They sang and talked and stories told,
And lied and laughed and roared,
And woke to fright the neighbors all
That peaceful lay and snored.

They punches drank and brandy straight,
And cocktails forty-three,
And set their lungs afloat in floods
Of tangle-foot whiskee.

Now, Middleton ringleader was
Of this disgraceful mob,
And Bleydenburg abetted his
Vile peace-disturbing job.

The “Rajah” and young Dickinson,
And Captain Queen also,
Did help in this unholy work,
(The others I don't know).

But Captain Cox and Dr. Shorb,
And virtuous Marcus Twain,
And Lake and Field did remonstrate
And begged them to refrain.

It never did a bit of good—
The villains said “'twas warm,”
They made no noise, they said, it was
The equinoctial storm.

The equinoctial storm be blowed!
No cloud was in the sky.
Let these outlaws be court-martialed
For this outrageous falsehood.