Classic Poem

By Sunnyside bower runs a little Indian Brook,
As wild as wild can be;
It flows down from hills where Indians lived of old
To the mighty Tappan Sea

And this little brook supplies a goodly little pond
Where the Sunnyside ducks do play,
Snowy white little ducks with topknots on their heads
And merry little ducks are they.

And high up the hill stands fair Jaffray Hall
Where a mighty chief doth dwell
And this little Indian brook flows through his lands
And its own little rugged dell.

And the Laird of Jaffray arose in his might
And he said to his wife one day,
" This little Indian brook, is an idle little brook
And shall no longer have its way.

No longer shall it run down to Sunnyside pond
Nor eke to the Tappan Sea
I'll stop it, with a dam, and pump it up hill with a ram
And make it work for a living, " said he.

" It shall run in pipes about our garden and lawn
Making jets and fountains clear.
It shall run upstairs and downstairs of Jaffray Hall,
And into your bathroom, my dear. "

Then the Sunnyside ducks they quaked with fear
And dolefully they did cry,
" Oh Laird of Jaffray spare our little brook,
Or we shall be left high and dry! "

But soon it appeared that this brave little brook
Defied the Laird of Jaffray's skill;
For though he dammed the little brook, and rammed the little brook
The little brook still ran down hill.

Then the Sunnyside ducks again plucked up heart,
And got over their quanda — ry ,
And the little brook still runs on to Sunnyside pond
And the mighty Tappan Sea!