Classic Poem

As one who strives a hill to climb,
Who never climbed before;
Who finds it, in a little time,
Grow every moment less sublime,
And votes the thing a bore:

Yet, having once begun to try,
Dares not desert his quest,
But, climbing, ever keeps his eye
On one small hut against the sky
Wherein he hopes to rest:

Who climbs till nerve and force are spent,
With many a puff and pant:
Who still, as rises the ascent,
In language grows more violent,
Although in breath more scant:

Who, climbing, gains at length the place
That crowns the upward track:
And, entering with unsteady pace,
Receives a buffet in the face
That lands him on his back:

And feels himself, like one in sleep,
Glide swiftly down again,
A helpless weight, from steep to steep,
Till, with a headlong giddy sweep,
He drops upon the plain —

So I, that had resolved to bring
Conviction to a ghost,
And found it quite a different thing
From any human arguing,
Yet dared not quit my post.

But, keeping still the end in view
To which I hoped to come,
I strove to prove the matter true
By putting everything I knew
Into an axiom:

Commencing every single phrase
With " therefore " or " because, "
I blindly reeled, a hundred ways,
About the syllogistic maze,
Unconscious where I was.

Quoth he " That 's regular clap-trap:
Don't bluster any more.
Now do be cool and take a nap!
Such a ridiculous old chap
Was never seen before!

" You 're like a man I used to meet,
Who got one day so furious
In arguing, the simple heat
Scorched both his slippers off his feet! "
I said " That 's very curious! "

" Well, it is curious, I agree,
And sounds perhaps like fibs:
But still it 's true as true can be —
As sure as your name 's Tibbs, " said he.
I said " My name 's not Tibbs. "

" Not Tibbs! " he cried — his tone became
A shade or two less hearty —
" Why, no, " said I. " My proper name
Is Tibbets — " " Tibbets? " " Aye, the same. "
" Why, then YOU 'RE NOT THE PARTY ! "

With that he struck the board a blow
That shivered half the glasses.
" Why couldn't you have told me so
Three quarters of an hour ago,
You prince of all the asses?

" To walk four miles through mud and rain,
To spend the night in smoking,
And then to find that it 's in vain —
And I 've to do it all again —
It 's really too provoking!

" Don't talk! " he cried, as I began
To mutter some excuse.
" Who can have patience with a man
That 's got no more discretion than
An idiotic goose?

" To keep me waiting here, instead
Of telling me at once
That this was not the house! " he said.
" There, that 'll do — be off to bed!
Don't gape like that, you dunce! "

" It 's very fine to throw the blame
On me in such a fashion!
Why didn't you enquire my name
The very minute that you came? "
I answered in a passion.

" Of course it worries you a bit
To come so far on foot —
But how was I to blame for it? "
" Well, well! " said he. " I must admit
That isn't badly put.

" And certainly you 've given me
The best of wine and victual —
Excuse my violence, " said he,
" But accidents like this, you see,
They put one out a little.

" 'Twas my fault after all, I find —
Shake hands, old Turnip-top! "
The name was hardly to my mind,
But, as no doubt he meant it kind,
I let the matter drop.

" Good-night, old Turnip-top, good-night!
When I am gone, perhaps
They 'll send you some inferior Sprite,
Who 'll keep you in a constant fright
And spoil your soundest naps.

" Tell him you 'll stand no sort of trick;
Then, if he leers and chuckles,
You just be handy with a stick
(Mind that it 's pretty hard and thick)
And rap him on the knuckles!

" Then carelessly remark " Old coon!
Perhaps you're not aware
That, if you don't behave, you'll soon
Be chuckling to another tune —
And so you 'd best take care!"

" That 's the right way to cure a Sprite
Of such-like goings-on —
But gracious me! It 's getting light!
Good-night, old Turnip-top, good-night! "
A nod, and he was gone.