“An Overworked Elocutionist”
by Carolyn Wells
*Once there was a little boy whose name was Robert Reese,
And every Friday afternoon he had to speak a piece.
So many poems this he learned,that soon he had a store
Of recitations in his head and still kept learning more.
And now this is what happened: He was called upon one week
And totally forgot the piece he was about to speak.
His brain he cudgeled.Not a word remained within his head
And so he spoke at random, and this is what he said:*
O beautiful, o beautiful, who standest proudly by,
It is the schooner Hesperus–the breaking waves dashed high.
Why is this forum crowded? What means this stir in Rome?
Under a spreading chestnut tree, there is no place like home.
When freedom from her mountain aerie cried, “Twinkle, twinkle little star!”
Shoot if you must this old grey head, King Henry of Navarre,
Roll on, thou deep and dark blue castled crag of Drachenfels.
My name is Norval, of the Grampian Hills; ring out, wild bells
If you’re waking, call me early, to be or not to be.
The curfew must not ring tonight, Oh,woodman, spare that tree!
Charge, Chester, charge! On Stanley, on and let who will be clever.
The boy stood on the burning deck, but I’ll go on forever.
His elocution was superb, his voice and gestures fine
His school-mates all applauded as he finished the last line.
“I see it doesn’t matter,” Robert thought, "What words I say,
“As long as I declaim with an oratorical display.”
The fun was learning that at about 6 years old, and spending the rest of your life going, “OH! That poem!” when I run into the lines in situ, as it were.