Classic Poem

It was a gallant stranger
Of goodly height and weight,
Who wore a bale of whiskers
Most fierce to contemplate,
And eke an air of freshness
Brought from ye Golden Gate.

He came into my sanctum
One pleasant afternoon,
And hinted that we visit
Some neighboring saloon.
I made a bad exception,
And went with him full soon.

When we arrived, ye stranger
Who hail-ed from ye Coast,
Drew forth a yellow eagle,
And shouted to mine host:
" Ho! mix us two bonanzas —
We fain would drink a toast! "

Then did ye skillful mixer
Two bottles set in line,
Ye one containing brandy,
Ye other yellow wine;
And these two pleasant liquids
Proceeded to combine.

Ye stranger eyed ye compound
With sigh of deepest bliss;
Then down his hairy gullet
It slipped with gurgling hiss,
And I did toss a bumper
Into mine own abyss.

Then forth again we sallied
Into ye outer air,
When, lo! this world seemed glorious,
This life a boon most rare,
And that bewhiskered giant
A man divinely fair!

Quoth I: " This same bonanza
Puts fire into ye heart.
Return with me, I prithee,
Unto ye liquor mart,
And I, as doth beseem me,
Will play ye buyer's part. "

When next again we sallied
Into ye crowded street,
'Twas arm in arm we wandered,
And lifted high our feet,
Ye while ye gracious pavement
Rose up our soles to meet.

Ye third time that we issued
From that accursed den,
A change was wrought within us
Defying tongue or pen.
Each fire-plug seemed a hogshead,
Each man looked like to ten!

And still a fourth bonanza
Each poured into his face,
Which caused ye mighty buildings
All round about to chase,
And make ye streets and alleys
Tie up and interlace.

Anon ye swaying sidewalk
Grew rife with wriggling things;
With lobsters, pterodactyls,
And toads with fiery wings;
With blue and greenish devils,
And snakes with twisting stings.

That night, within ye prison,
I slept as sleep ye dead,
My right arm for a pillow,
An oak plank for a bed;
And when I woke ye morrow,
I wondered at my head!

Since then, within my pocket
I bear a monstrous gun.
Perchance I may encounter
Again that Native Son;
And, if he says " bonanza, "
I'll either shoot or run!