Classic Poem

It was a Jolly Miller lived on the River Dee;
He looked upon his piller, and there he found a flea:
'O Mr. Flea! you have bit' me,
And you shall shorely die!'
So he scrunched his bones against the stones--
And there he let him lie!

Twas then the Jolly Miller he laughed and told his wife,
And she laughed fit to kill her, and dropped her carvin'-knife!--
'O Mr. Flea!' 'Ho-ho!' 'Tee-hee!'
They both laughed fit to kill,
Until the sound did almost drownd
The rumble of the mill!

'Laugh on, my Jolly Miller! and Missus Miller, too!--
But there's a weeping-willer will soon wave over you!'
The voice was all so awful small--
So very small and slim!--
He durst' infer that it was her,
Ner her infer 'twas him!

That night the Jolly Miller, says he, 'It's Wifey dear,
That cat o' yourn, I'd kill her!--her actions is so queer,--
She rubbin' 'ginst the grindstone-legs,
And yowlin' at the sky--
And I 'low the moon haint greener
Than the yaller of her eye!'

And as the Jolly Miller went chuckle-un to bed,
Was Somepin jerked his piller from underneath his head!
'O Wife,' says he, on-easi-lee,
'Fetch here that lantern there!'
But Somepin moans in thunder tones,
'You tetch it ef you dare!'

'Twas then the Jolly Miller he trimbled and he quailed--
And his wife choked until her breath come back, 'n' she wailed!
And 'O!' cried she, 'it is the Flea,
All white and pale and wann--
He's got you in his clutches, and
He's bigger than a man!'

'Ho! ho! my Jolly Miller,' (fer 'twas the Flea, fer shore!)
'I reckon you'll not rack my bones ner scrunch 'em any more!'
And then the Ghost he grabbed him clos't,
With many a ghastly smile,
And from the doorstep stooped and hopped
About four hundred mile!