A little book of tribune verse A number of hitherto uncollected poems, grave and gay |
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ROMANCE OF THE CUCUMBER. |
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 | A little book of tribune verse |  |
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ROMANCE OF THE CUCUMBER.
A cucumber green on the table lay,
Biding his swiftly approaching death,
And he smiled at the vinegar over the way,
And unto the pepper and salt he saith,
“You'll keep me company, friends, I trust,
We'll die like Sampson if die we must.”
Biding his swiftly approaching death,
And he smiled at the vinegar over the way,
And unto the pepper and salt he saith,
“You'll keep me company, friends, I trust,
We'll die like Sampson if die we must.”
A maiden sat in a chair hard by,
A beautiful maiden of supple grace,
And delicate features, and large blue eye,
And a rapturous transport over her face.
A youth drove moodily home that night,
In the last faint streak of the twilight blush,
And the moon as of one in a piteous plight,
Invaded the evening's solemn hush;
One look at the river, one little splash
And the eddy encircled the lover rash.
A beautiful maiden of supple grace,
And delicate features, and large blue eye,
And a rapturous transport over her face.
A youth drove moodily home that night,
In the last faint streak of the twilight blush,
And the moon as of one in a piteous plight,
Invaded the evening's solemn hush;
One look at the river, one little splash
And the eddy encircled the lover rash.
A sorrowing train with the tell-tale bier,
Passed over the road to the family lot
While the mourners gazed at the gardens near,
And the cucumbers whispered, “Forget us not.”
One little spirit by angels blest,
One little stomach for aye at rest.
Passed over the road to the family lot
While the mourners gazed at the gardens near,
And the cucumbers whispered, “Forget us not.”
One little spirit by angels blest,
One little stomach for aye at rest.
(Attributed to) R. M. Field.
August 28th, 1881.
| A little book of tribune verse | |