December 2nd, Monday | Hiatus Week: The Courtship of Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo

The date is December 2nd, Monday, and today I’m traveling from Port Vila, Vanuatu to Auckland, New Zealand.

 

This week I’ll be on hiatus, which may sound ridiculous considering the number of episodes I have to catch up on, but if you then consider that each episode takes me about 3 hours from research to writing to publication, I need time, that with working, I don’t always have. 

 

So this hiatus week will be a recurring thing I do to help me stay on top of episodes while I figure out how to produce them faster (!). And each week I’ll share some content I couldn’t otherwise share on here. This week I’ll be sharing poems that I think are quite delightful and quirky but that would otherwise be too long for a regular episode. Future hiatus weeks may be something different! Stayed tuned. 

 

So without further ado….

 

The Courtship of the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo

Edward Lear

 

On the Coast of Coromandel

   Where the early pumpkins blow,

      In the middle of the woods

   Lived the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

Two old chairs, and half a candle,

One old jug without a handle--

      These were all his worldly goods,

      In the middle of the woods,

      These were all his worldly goods,

   Of the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo,

   Of the Yonghy-Bonghy Bo.

 

Once, among the Bong-trees walking

   Where the early pumpkins blow,

      To a little heap of stones

   Came the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

There he heard a Lady talking,

To some milk-white Hens of Dorking--

      "'Tis the Lady Jingly Jones!

      On that little heap of stones

      Sits the Lady Jingly Jones!"

   Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo,

   Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

 

"Lady Jingly! Lady Jingly!

   Sitting where the pumpkins blow,

      Will you come and be my wife?"

   Said the Yongby-Bonghy-Bo.

"I am tired of living singly--

On this coast so wild and shingly--

      I'm a-weary of my life;

      If you'll come and be my wife,

      Quite serene would be my life!"

   Said the Yonghy-Bongby-Bo,

   Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

 

"On this Coast of Coromandel

   Shrimps and watercresses grow,

      Prawns are plentiful and cheap,"

Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

"You shall have my chairs and candle,

And my jug without a handle!

      Gaze upon the rolling deep

      (Fish is plentiful and cheap);

      As the sea, my love is deep!"

   Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo,

   Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

 

Lady Jingly answered sadly,

   And her tears began to flow--

      "Your proposal comes too late,

   Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!

I would be your wife most gladly!"

(Here she twirled her fingers madly)

      "But in England I've a mate!

      Yes! you've asked me far too late,

      For in England I've a mate,

   Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!

   Mr. Yongby-Bonghy-Bo!

 

"Mr. Jones (his name is Handel--

   Handel Jones, Esquire, & Co.)

      Dorking fowls delights to send

   Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!

Keep, oh, keep your chairs and candle,

And your jug without a handle--

      I can merely be your friend!

      Should my Jones more Dorkings send,

      I will give you three, my friend!

   Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!

   Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!

 

"Though you've such a tiny body,

   And your head so large doth grow--

      Though your hat may blow away

   Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!

Though you're such a Hoddy Doddy,

Yet I wish that I could modi-

      fy the words I needs must say!

      will you please to go away

      That is all I have to say,

   Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!

   Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!"

 

Down the slippery slopes of Myrtle,

   Where the early pumpkins blow,

      To the calm and silent sea

   Fled the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

There, beyond the Bay of Gurtle,

Lay a large and lively Turtle.

      "You're the Cove," he said, "for me;

      On your back beyond the sea,

      Turtle, you shall carry me!"

   Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo,

   Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

 

Through the silent-roaring ocean

   Did the Turtle swiftly go;

      Holding fast upon his shell

   Rode the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

With a sad primeval motion

Towards the sunset isles of Boshen

      Still the Turtle bore him well.

      Holding fast upon his shell,

      "Lady Jingly Jones, farewell!"

   Sang the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo,

   Sang the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

 

From the Coast of Coromandel

   Did that Lady never go;

      On that heap of stones she mourns

   For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

On that Coast of Coromandel,

In his jug without a handle

      Still she weeps, and daily moans;

      On that little heap of stones

      To her Dorking Hens she moans,

   For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo,

   For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

 

Thank you for listening. I’m your host, Virginia Combs, wishing you a good morning, a better day, and a lovely evening.