Classic Poem

I knew a youth named Henry Chard,
Whose grandpa was deceased;
His grandma lived by selling lard,
His mother worked extremely hard,
His uncle was a railway guard,
His father was a beast.

When Christmas came with green and red,
And everything it means,
His grandpa went on being dead,
His grandma gave him rolls of thread,
His uncle, soldiers made of lead,
His mother even gave him bread,
His father gave him beans.

A certain day, when Henry Chard
Was standing on his head,
And turning cartwheels very hard,
The King came by with all his Guard;
With officers all plumed and starred,
And said, " I wish, oh Master Chard,
I could do that instead. "

He tried in vain: then, with a sigh,
Our Henry he did choose
And made him Duke and C. S. I.
And Z. P. C. and K. X. Y.,
And he was everything that's high,
Till he at last was mentioned by
The current " Daily News " .

When Henry Chard heard this, his gay
Indifference was shocking;
He said, " I won't be A. Q. K.,
Or X. Y. L. or P. D. A.
Your friends are Dukes, I guess, and they
Seem to be anything but gay,
And all I want on Christmas Day
Is something in my stocking. "

The King he swore a mighty vow,
And did not seek to hide it:
" By Heaven and this Imperial brow,
There's something in your stocking now
That Heaven has put there, Heaven knows how,
Though you have never spied it:
A wonderful thing with ears and eyes,
And cartwheels turned, and wonderful cries,
Oh! the self is sad and the soul is gone,
For all the kings that the sun shone on;
But well for you, when all is done,
If you can pull your stocking on
And find yourself inside it. "