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| A lion woke up one morning feeling really rowdy and mean. He went out and cornered a small monkey and roared, "Who is mightiest of all jungle animals?" The trembling monkey says, "You are, mighty lion! Later, the lion confronts a ox and fie... Read more of King of the jungle at Free Jokes.ca | Informational Privacy |
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Wales PoetryThe Cuckoo's TaleHail, bird of sweet melody, heav'n is thy home; With the... To The Lark "Sentinel of the morning light! Reveller of the... A Bridal Song Wilt thou not waken, bride of May, While the flowers are... The Lily And The Rose Once I saw two flowers blossom In a garden 'neath the h... To May the following and several other poems in this collection. ... Childe Harold "Oh Gwynedd, fast thy star declineth, Thy name is gone, t... Gwilym Glyn And Ruth Of Dyffryn In the depth of yonder valley, Where the fields are bright... Concerning The Divine Providence ... Under The Orchard Tree Under the deep-laden boughs of the orchard Walks a maid... Short Is The Life Of Man Man's life, like any weaver's shuttle, flies, Or, like a t... By The Rev Rees Prichard, Ma ... My Father-land Land of the Cymry! thou art still, In rock and valley, str... The Shipwreck a Welsh Congregationalist Minister, and an eminent poet.... The Day Of Judgment was a native of Anglesea, and entered the Welsh Church... The Legend Of Trwst Llywelyn Once upon a time, Llywelyn was returning from a great battl... Llywarch Hen's Lament On Cynddylan Taliesin in the sixth century. He was engaged at the batt... The Dawn Streaking the mantle of deep night The rays of light ... The Vengeance Of Owain {96} Gruffydd ab Cynan, Prince of Gwynedd, or North Wales, and ... The Monarchy Of Britain Sons of the Fair Isle! forget not the time, Ere spoilers h... The Lament Op Llywarch Hen The bright hours return, and the blue sky is ringing ... |
Old Morgan And His WifeCategory: The Humorous. Hus.--Jane, tell me have you fed the pigs, Their cry is not so fine: And if you have not, don't delay, 'Tis nearly half-past nine. Wife.--There, now your noisy din begins, Ding, ding, and endless ding, I do believe your scolding voice Me to the grave will bring. H.--Were you to drop in there to-day, This day would end my sorrow. W.--But I shall not to please you, Mog, To-day, nor yet to-morrow. H.--Oh! were you, Jane, to leave this world, W.--And you to beg and borrow, H.--Stop, Jane, talk not so silly, Jane, W.--Not at your bidding, never; I'd talk as long as I thought fit, Were I to live for ever. H.--Your voice if raised a little more, Would rouse the very dead, A pretty noise, because I ask'd If you the pigs had fed. W.--I'll raise my voice, Mog, louder still, As sure as you were born, Why should you ask "How many loaves Came from the peck of corn?" H.--Should not the master of the house Know every undertaking? W.--And wear his wife's own crinoline, And try his hand at baking! H.--The breeches you would like to wear! W.--What vulgar jests you're making! H.--Stop Jane, stop Jane, don't speak so loud, Your noise will stun the cattle! W.--The only noise that could do that Is your continued rattle. H.--As sounds a bee upon her back, So does this wasp I've got, And all because I ask'd if she Had fed the pigs or not. W.--Your peevish growling, Mog, is worse, Yes, ten times worse and more, Still asking, "How this churning gave Less than the one before?" H.--You know the butter pays our rent, And many another matter. W.--I know that if the cows are starved They won't get any fatter! H.--I give the cows enough to eat. W.--Well do, and hold your clatter. H.--Stop Jane, stop Jane, confound your noise, 'Twould shame a barrel organ. W.--If I were half as loud as you, I think it would, Old Morgan! H.--Your temper, Jane, will drive me soon To share a soldier's lot, To march with gun and martial tune 'Midst powder, smoke, and shot. W.--What! you a soldier? never, Mog! Your heart is coward too, You'll fight with no one but with me, You've then enough to do! H.--I'll go and fight the mighty Czar, To aid the Turkish nation. W.--Then go, a greater Turk than you Breathes not within creation! H.--For shame, to call your husband Turk. W.--Such is my pledg'd relation. H.--Stop Jane, stop Jane, let's now shake hands And we'll be henceforth friends. W.--No, not till you have stopp'd will I, Be still, or make amends. Next: Song Of The Foster-son, Love Previous: Childe Harold
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