Carolyn Wells Poems

'Twas the night before the Fourth of July, the people slept serene;
The fireworks were stored in the old town hall that stood
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This figure here before you is a Macaroni Man,
Who is built, as you may notice, on a most ingenious plan.
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Our Bobby is a little boy, of six years old, or so;
And every kind of rubbish in his pocket he will stow.
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Old Father Time, one day
In his study, so they say,
Was indulging in a surreptitious nap,
When from his drowsy dreams
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A is for Alice a-dressing the Queen.
B is for Borogoves, mimsy and lean.
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Old Santa Claus is up-to-date,
And hereafter, rumors say,
He'll come with his pack of glittering toys,
And visit the homes of girls and boys,
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Once there were some silly kittens,
And they knitted woolly mittens
To bestow upon the freezing Hottentots.
But the Hottentots refused them,
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Mamma has bought a calendar,
And every single page
Has pictures on of little girls
'Most just about my age
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There lived a wondrous sculptor once, a genius in his way,
Named Phidias Praxiteles Canova Merryday.
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A fable told by La Fontaine,
Two centuries or more ago,
Describes some rats who would arraign
A cat, their direst foe,
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