The Courtship Of The Yonghy-bonghy-bo

Edward Lear

I

On the Coast of Coromandel
Where the early pumpkins blow,
In the middle of the woods
  Lived the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.
Two old chairs, and half a candle,—
One old jug without a handle,—
    These were all his worldly goods:
    In the middle of the woods,
    These were all the worldly goods,
  Of the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò,
  Of the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.

II

Once, among the Bong-trees walking
  Where the early pumpkins blow,
    To a little heap of stones
  Came the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.
There he heard a Lady talking,
To some milk-white Hens of Dorking,—
    ‘’Tis the lady Jingly Jones!
    ‘On that little heap of stones
    ‘Sits the Lady Jingly Jones!’
  Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò,
  Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.

III

‘Lady Jingly! Lady Jingly!
  ‘Sitting where the pumpkins blow,
    ‘Will you come and be my wife?’
  Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.
‘I am tired of living singly,—
‘On this coast so wild and shingly,—
    ‘I’m a-weary of my life:
    ‘If you’ll come and be my wife,
    ‘Quite serene would be my life!’—
  Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò,
  Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.

IV

‘On this Coast of Coromandel,
  ‘Shrimps and watercresses grow,
    ‘Prawns are plentiful and cheap,’
  Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.
‘You shall have my chairs and candle,
‘And my jug without a handle!—
    ‘Gaze upon the rolling deep
    (’Fish is plentiful and cheap)
    ‘As the sea, my love is deep!’
  Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò,
  Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.

V

Lady Jingly answered sadly,
  And her tears began to flow,—
    ‘Your proposal comes too late,
  ‘Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò!
‘I would be your wife most gladly!’
(Here she twirled her fingers madly,)
    ‘But in England I’ve a mate!
    ‘Yes! you’ve asked me far too late,
    ‘For in England I’ve a mate,
  ‘Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò!
  ‘Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò!’

VI

‘Mr. Jones—(his name is Handel,—
  ‘Handel Jones, Esquire, & Co.)
    ‘Dorking fowls delights to send,
  ‘Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò!
‘Keep, oh! keep your chairs and candle,
‘And your jug without a handle,—
    ‘I can merely be your friend!
    ‘—Should my Jones more Dorkings send,
    ‘I will give you three, my friend!
  ‘Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò!
  ‘Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò!’

VII

‘Though you’ve such a tiny body,
  ‘And your head so large doth grow,—
    ‘Though your hat may blow away,
  ‘Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò!
‘Though you’re such a Hoddy Doddy—
‘Yet a wish that I could modi-
    ‘fy the words I needs must say!
    ‘Will you please to go away?
    ‘That is all I have to say—
  ‘Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò!
  ‘Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò!’.

VIII

Down the slippery slopes of Myrtle,
  Where the early pumpkins blow,
    To the calm and silent sea
  Fled the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.
There, beyond the Bay of Gurtle,
Lay a large and lively Turtle,—
    ‘You’re the Cove,’ he said, ‘for me
    ‘On your back beyond the sea,
    ‘Turtle, you shall carry me!’
  Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò,
  Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.

IX

Through the silent-roaring ocean
  Did the Turtle swiftly go;
    Holding fast upon his shell
  Rode the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.
With a sad primæval motion
Towards the sunset isles of Boshen
    Still the Turtle bore him well.
    Holding fast upon his shell,
    ‘Lady Jingly Jones, farewell!’
  Sang the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò,
  Sang the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.

X

From the Coast of Coromandel,
  Did that Lady never go;
    On that heap of stones she mourns
  For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.
On that Coast of Coromandel,
In his jug without a handle
    Still she weeps, and daily moans;
    On that little hep of stones
    To her Dorking Hens she moans,
  For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò,
  For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.

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