 | Short poems for short people |  |
OUR QUEEN.
Perhaps there are many as lovely as she;
I doubt it, you'll pardon my stating.
This babe is the princess of babes unto me,
Her rattle for sceptre, for throne my knee,
And Nurse for the Lady in Waiting.
I doubt it, you'll pardon my stating.
This babe is the princess of babes unto me,
Her rattle for sceptre, for throne my knee,
And Nurse for the Lady in Waiting.
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To us, who obey them with untiring zeal,
Her mandates are issued serenely.
Gug-gug is a fiat that knows not repeal,
Coo-coo is a praise of her courtiers leal,
In tones condescendingly queenly.
Her mandates are issued serenely.
Gug-gug is a fiat that knows not repeal,
Coo-coo is a praise of her courtiers leal,
In tones condescendingly queenly.
Her bath is a question of state. 'T is a sort
Of treason to break her siesta.
Papa, at his sovereign's tyrannical court,
Assumes, by the right of a genius for sport,
The rôle of Her Majesty's Jester.
Of treason to break her siesta.
Papa, at his sovereign's tyrannical court,
Assumes, by the right of a genius for sport,
The rôle of Her Majesty's Jester.
Receptions of Grandma, when visiting town,
Are held amid pomp rarely splendid.
In radiant ribbons and costliest gown,
(God gave her those tiny bright curls for a crown,)
The greeting is grandly extended.
Are held amid pomp rarely splendid.
In radiant ribbons and costliest gown,
(God gave her those tiny bright curls for a crown,)
The greeting is grandly extended.
Her personal income of corals and caps
Quite equals her royal position.
The rule of her nursery suffers no lapse;
An absolute monarchy, tempered with naps,
It meets an unvaried submission.
Quite equals her royal position.
The rule of her nursery suffers no lapse;
An absolute monarchy, tempered with naps,
It meets an unvaried submission.
Like that of all despots, her reign is not free
From faults, I am candid in stating;
Yet who such a despot's proud slave would not be?—
Her rattle for sceptre, for throne my knee,
And Nurse for the Lady in Waiting.
From faults, I am candid in stating;
Yet who such a despot's proud slave would not be?—
Her rattle for sceptre, for throne my knee,
And Nurse for the Lady in Waiting.
| Short poems for short people | |