Classic Poem

The Ivory Tooth.

??Believe me, dear Prout,
Should a tooth e'er grow loose in your head,
?Or fall out,
And perchance you'd wish one in its stead,
Soon you'd see what my Art could contrive for ye,
???When I'd forthwith produce,
???For your reverence's use,
A most beautiful tooth carved from ivory!
???Which, when dinner-time comes,
???Would so well fit your gums,
???That to make one superior
???'Twould puzzle a fairy, or
???And cute Leprechawn
???That trips o'er the lawn,
???Or the spirit that dwells
???In the lonely harebells,
Or a witch from the big lake Ontario
???'Twould fit in so tight.
???So brilliant and bright,
And be made of such capital stuff,
?That no food
???Must needs be eschwe'd
On account of its being too tough;
'Twould enable a sibyl
The hardest sea-biscuit to nibble;
Nay, with such a sharp tusk, and such polished enamel,
Dear Prout, you could eat up a camel!
???As I know you will judge
With eye microscopic
????What I say on this delicate topic,
???And I wish to beware of all fudge,
??I tell but the bare naked truth,
And I hope I don't state what's irrelevant,
??When I say that this tooth,
???Brought from Africa, when
???In the depths of a palm-shaded glen
???It was captured by men,
??Then adorned in the full bloom of youth,
The jaws of a blood-royal elephant.
?We are told,
???That a surgeon of old—
Oh, 'tis he was well skilled in the art of nosology!
?For such was his knowledge, he
??Could make you a nose bran new!
??I scarce can believe it, can you?
And still did a public most keen and discerning
?Acknowledge his learning;
??Yea, such skill was his,
??That on any unfortunate phiz,
??By some luckless chance,
??In the wars of France,
??Deprived of its fleshy ridge,
??He'd raise up a nasal bridge.
?Now my genius is not so precocious
?As that of Dr. Tagliacotius,
For I only profess to be versed in the art of dontology;
??To make you a nose
??“C'est toute autre chose:”
??For at best, my dear Prout,
??Instead of a human snout,
?You'd get but a sorry apology.
But let me alone
?For stopping a gap, or correcting a flaw
?In a patient's jaw;
Or making a tooth that, like bone of your bona,
Will outlive your own,
?And shine on in the grave when your spirit is flown.
I know there's a blockhead
That will put you a tooth up with wires,
And then, when the clumsy thing tires,
This most impudent fellow
Will quietly tell you
?To take it out of its socket,
And put it back into your waistcoat pocket!
But 'tis not so with mine,
O most learned divine!
For without any spurious auxiliary,
So firmly infixed in your dexter maxillary,
To your last dying moment 'twill shine,
??Unless 'tis knock'd out,
??In some desperate rout,
By a sudden discharge of artillery.
Thus the firmer 'twill grow as the wearer grows older,
And then, when in death you shall moulder,
Like that Greek who had gotten an ivory shoulder,
The delight and amazement of ev'ry beholder,
You'll be sung by the poets in your turn, O!
“Dente Prout humeroque Pelops insignis eburno!