Classic Poem

Once on a time, a Monarch, tired with whooping,
Whipping and spurring,
Happy in worrying
A poor, defenceless, harmless buck
(The horse and rider wet as muck),
From his high confidence and wisdom stooping,
Entered, through curiosity, a cot
Where sat a poor Old Woman and her pot.

The wrinkled, blear-eyed, good old granny,
In this same cot, illumed by many a cranny,
Had finished apple dumplings for her pot.
In tempting row the naked dumplings lay,
When, lo! the Monarch, in his usual way,
Like lightning spoke: "What's this? what's this? what? what?'

Then, taking up a dumpling in his hand,
His eyes with admiration did expand,
And oft did Majesty the dumpling grapple:
" 'Tis monstrous, monstrous hard indeed,' he cried:
"What makes it, pray, so hard?'--The dame replied,
Low curtseying, "Please your Majesty, the apple.'--

"Very astonishing indeed! strange thing!'
(Turning the dumpling round, rejoined the King),
" 'Tis most extraordinary then, all this is;
It beats Pinetti's conjuring all to pieces:
Strange I should never of a dumpling dream!
But, Goody, tell me where, where, where's the seam?'

"Sir, there's no seam,' quoth she, "I never knew
That folks did apple dumplings sew.'--
"No!' cried the staring Monarch with a grin:
"How, how the devil got the apple in?'

On which the dame the curious scheme revealed
By which the apple lay so sly concealed;
Which made the Solomon of Britain start;

Who to the Palace with full speed repaired,
And Queens and Princesses so beauteous scared,
All with the wonders of the dumpling art.
There did he labour one whole week, to show
The wisdom of an apple dumpling maker;
And, lo! so deep was Majesty in dough,
The Palace seemed the lodging of a baker.