Classic Poem

Way back among the childhood joys,
Where fun was measured by the noise,
You see a lot of barefoot boys;
At hide-and-seek they're playing:
The one must seek, the rest may hide —
As from the row they step aside,
You hear the leader count with pride,
His rhythmic lingo saying:

" Ainee, mainee, monee, mike!
Barcelona, mona, strike!
Air, ware, frown, wack!
Alico, balico, calico, whack!
One, two, three!
Out goes he! "

How soon these boys to manhood grow;
Again they're standing in a row;
They carry arms — to battle go;
Is 't hide-and-seek they 're playing?
And as they march into the fray,
How many, many, fall away
When booming cannon join the play,
This rhythmic lingo saying:

" Ainee, mainee, monee, mike!
Barcelona, mona, strike!
Air, ware, frown, wack!
Alico, balico, calico, whack!
One, two, three!
Out goes he! "

And later, others join the game: —
Ambition hides, and wealth, and fame!
What though it bear some other name,
'T is hide-and-seek they 're playing!
Though death may hide with clod and clout,
Kind Heaven will find, beyond a doubt,
All Father Time has counted out,
His rhythmic lingo saying:

" Ainee, mainee, monee, mike!
Barcelona, mona, strike!
Air, ware, frown, wack!
Alico, balico, calico, whack!
One, two, three!
Out goes he! "