The Limeratomy
THE FACE
As a beauty I'm not a great star,
There are others more handsome by far,
But my face I don't mind it,
Because I'm behind it—
'Tis the folks in the front that I jar.
NOTE
In the wax works of Nature they strike
Off each minute some face for life's hike,
And of billions of mugs
On us poor human bugs—
There are no two exactly alike.
THE CONSCIENCE
With a conscience we're able to see
Just how bad we're permitted to be,
At the same time it's true
That what's wicked for you
Mightn't be half so wicked for me.
THE SNEEZE
Now the sneeze is a joy-vent, I s'pose,
When you're tickled to death in your nose—
A pleasing explosion,
Creating erosion—
But you want to watch out where it goes.
THE SMILE
No matter how grouchy you're feeling,
You'll find the smile more or less healing.
It grows in a wreath
All around the front teeth—
Thus preserving the face from congealing.
THE EARS
Now the ears, so I always had thunk,
Should bear sounds to the top of the trunk,
But from some I observe,
They seem merely to serve
As racks for the Jooler-man's junk,
THE HANDS
The hands they were made to assist
In supplying the features with grist.
There are only a few—
As a rule about two—
And are hitched to the end of the wrist.
THE ANKLE
The ankle's chief end is exposiery
Of the latest designs in silk hosiery,
Also I suspect
It was made to connect
The part called the calf with the toesiery.
As a beauty I'm not a great star,
There are others more handsome by far,
But my face I don't mind it,
Because I'm behind it—
'Tis the folks in the front that I jar.
NOTE
In the wax works of Nature they strike
Off each minute some face for life's hike,
And of billions of mugs
On us poor human bugs—
There are no two exactly alike.
THE CONSCIENCE
With a conscience we're able to see
Just how bad we're permitted to be,
At the same time it's true
That what's wicked for you
Mightn't be half so wicked for me.
THE SNEEZE
Now the sneeze is a joy-vent, I s'pose,
When you're tickled to death in your nose—
A pleasing explosion,
Creating erosion—
But you want to watch out where it goes.
THE SMILE
No matter how grouchy you're feeling,
You'll find the smile more or less healing.
It grows in a wreath
All around the front teeth—
Thus preserving the face from congealing.
THE EARS
Now the ears, so I always had thunk,
Should bear sounds to the top of the trunk,
But from some I observe,
They seem merely to serve
As racks for the Jooler-man's junk,
THE HANDS
The hands they were made to assist
In supplying the features with grist.
There are only a few—
As a rule about two—
And are hitched to the end of the wrist.
THE ANKLE
The ankle's chief end is exposiery
Of the latest designs in silk hosiery,
Also I suspect
It was made to connect
The part called the calf with the toesiery.
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