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"It is an ancient teacher, And he killed us, one of three"; "By your long beard of grey and white, What are you telling me?
My wife's room's door is open wide, She likes my next-of-kin; If you shall speak of this right here – We'll both be served as din".
I hold him with my robust hand, "There was a Sir" (quote me); "Hold off! Release me, ex-raccoon!" And him I then set free.
I hold him with my glittering eye, And near me he stood still; He listens like a three years' child, Hurray! (I have his will.)
My dear friend sat on a stone, He cannot choose but hear; And thus he heard that tale of old, About the scary teacher.
"The class did cheer, he entered queer, Then our hearts did drop; Below the breast, below the floor, And it would never stop.
He told us then about the theft, And him only we'd see, He gave a fright, for he spoke right, We hid up in a tree.
Louder and louder every day, Till o'er our will at noon; His voice – no rest, he scared the best – Who did not listen soon.
The pride then left out through the hall, Red as a rose went we; Shaking heads – we want to dose – This we don't want to see."
My friend at rest, he struck his chest, He was inclined to hear: And so his stroke would never work, So at him I did leer.
"And now, the roar has come, and he Was tyrannous and strong; He'd strike with his old moral code, And kill us, all along.
With shiv'ring hearts we feared him as crows, As he pursued us: 'Yells and Blows', Still seems a blend of all God's foes; And forward bends his head, And hell drove past, loud roared the blast, Then out the class we fled.
Then he attacked, we felt no woe, As souls grew gelid cold; For we had turned, with rotten souls: As green as emerald.
And a blue streak of words he said, Yet he could not be seen: Nor in a mountain nor the glen – He scared us more than spleen.
And he was here, And he was there, And he was all around: He cracked and growled, and roared and howled, Like noises in a swound!
At length did cross an albatross, Out from the sky it came; As if it were a Jewish soul, We cursed it in God's name.
It ate the food that we would need, And round and round it blew. The nose did split, it was not fit; To handle smells of spew!
And a good south wind sprung up behind; The Bird of Grief did follow, And every day, for food or play, Came to the students' hollo!
The wisp of hound, the deathly sound, Had pierced shields nine; While all the night, through fog-smoke white, We watched out our behind.
'God save ye, students from afar! From fiends who harm ye thus! Why look you so?' 'With some ammo [We] shoved him in the moss'."
[ February 02, 2005, 12:24 AM: Message edited by: Jonathan Howard ]
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