  HUMOROUS. I dip my pen into the ink, And grasp your album tight; But for my life I cannot think One single word to write. In the storms of life, When you need an umbrella, May you have to uphold it A handsome young fellow. May beauty and truth, Keep you in youth; Green tea and sage, Preserve your old age. Some people can be very funny; I never could be so. So I’ll just inscribe my name; It’s the funniest thing I know. And all the fees entail Are nothing when compared to thee— Thou best of fees—fe-male. What! write in your album, for critics to spy, For the learned to laugh at?—No, not I! Accept my valued friendship, And roll it up in cotton, And think it not illusion, Because so easily gotten. Withsoever is this for why? Wherefore. Ain’t it? When I, poor elf, shall have vanished in vapor, May still my memory live—on paper. Round went the book, and here it came, In it for me to write my name; I would write better, if I could, But nature said I never should. If you wish to laugh; Glance at my autograph. Think of me and close the book. Sailing down the stream of life, In your little bark canoe, May you have a pleasant trip, With just room enough for two. Dear Friend:— Do not doubt me; You know more about me Than many whose names Here appear. But to tell them I’ll never— What! never? Hardly ever— What I’d like to write to you Here. ’Tis nonsense I’ve written; You’ll think I am smitten With charms that I hold Very dear. Please excuse me from writing, More lines so inviting, Your time to be spent Idly here. I care not much for gold or land, Give me a mortgage here and there, Some good bank stock—some note of hand, Or trifling railroad share. I only ask that Fortune send A little more than I can spend. You take a pinch and that’s enough. Profit by this sage advice, When you fall in love, think twice. Long may you live, Happy may you be, When you get married Come and see me. May you be happy, Each day of your life, Get a good husband And make a good wife. As sure as comes your wedding day, A broom to you I’ll send; In sunshine, use the brushy part, In storm, the other end. I write in your Album? How very absurd! My mind is at random— May your cheeks retain their dimples, May your heart be just as gay, Until some manly voice shall whisper, “Dearest, will you name the day?” |
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