The King Of Canoodle-Dum.

A poem by William Schwenck Gilbert

The story of Frederick Gowler,
A mariner of the sea,
Who quitted his ship, the Howler,
A-sailing in Caribbee.
For many a day he wandered,
Till he met in a state of rum
Calamity Pop Von Peppermint Drop,
The King of Canoodle-Dum.

That monarch addressed him gaily,
"Hum! Golly de do to-day?
Hum! Lily-white Buckra Sailee" -
(You notice his playful way?) -
"What dickens you doin' here, sar?
Why debbil you want to come?
Hum! Picaninnee, dere isn't no sea
In City Canoodle-Dum!"

And Gowler he answered sadly,
"Oh, mine is a doleful tale!
They've treated me werry badly
In Lunnon, from where I hail.
I'm one of the Family Royal -
No common Jack Tar you see;
I'm William The Fourth, far up in the North,
A King in my own countree!"

Bang-bang! How the tom-toms thundered!
Bang-bang! How they thumped this gongs!
Bang-bang! How the people wondered!
Bang-bang! At it hammer and tongs!
Alliance with Kings of Europe
Is an honour Canoodlers seek,
Her monarchs don't stop with Peppermint Drop
Every day in the week!

FRED told them that he was undone,
For his people all went insane,
And fired the Tower of London,
And Grinnidge's Naval Fane.
And some of them racked St. James's,
And vented their rage upon
The Church of St. Paul, the Fishmongers' Hall,
And the Angel at Islington.

Calamity Pop implored him
In his capital to remain
Till those people of his restored him
To power and rank again.
Calamity Pop he made him
A Prince of Canoodle-Dum,
With a couple of caves, some beautiful slaves,
And the run of the royal rum.

Pop gave him his only daughter,
Hum pickety wimple tip:
Fred vowed that if over the water
He went, in an English ship,
He'd make her his Queen, though truly
It is an unusual thing
For a Caribbee brat who's as black as your hat
To be wife of an English King.

And all the Canoodle-Dummers
They copied his rolling walk,
His method of draining rummers,
His emblematical talk.
For his dress and his graceful breeding,
His delicate taste in rum,
And his nautical way, were the talk of the day
In the Court of Canoodle-Dum.

Calamity Pop most wisely
Determined in everything
To model his Court precisely
On that of the English King;
And ordered that every lady
And every lady's lord
Should masticate jacky (a kind of tobaccy),
And scatter its juice abroad.

They signified wonder roundly
At any astounding yarn,
By darning their dear eyes roundly
('T was all they had to darn).
They "hoisted their slacks," adjusting
Garments of plantain-leaves
With nautical twitches (as if they wore breeches,
Instead of a dress like Eve's!)

They shivered their timbers proudly,
At a phantom forelock dragged,
And called for a hornpipe loudly
Whenever amusement flagged.
"Hum! Golly! him POP resemble,
Him Britisher sov'reign, hum!
Calamity Pop Von Peppermint Drop,
De King of Canoodle-Dum!"

The mariner's lively "Hollo!"
Enlivened Canoodle's plain
(For blessings unnumbered follow
In Civilization's train).
But Fortune, who loves a bathos,
A terrible ending planned,
For Admiral D. Chickabiddy, C.B.,
Placed foot on Canoodle land!

That rebel, he seized King Gowler,
He threatened his royal brains,
And put him aboard the Howler,
And fastened him down with chains.
The Howler she weighed her anchor,
With Frederick nicely nailed,
And off to the North with William The Fourth
These horrible pirates sailed.

Calamity said (with folly),
"Hum! nebber want him again -
Him civilize all of us, golly!
Calamity suck him brain!"
The people, however, were pained when
They saw him aboard his ship,
But none of them wept for their Freddy, except
Hum pickety wimple tip.

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