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The Roll of Roly Poly Roy Once on a time a lad I knew-- His sister called him Bubby; His cheeks were red, his eyes were blue, And he was plump and chubby. Indeed, he was so stout a boy, Some called him Roly Poly Roy; They called him that For he was fat And very plump and chubby. He caused his father grief profound, And made his mother worry, Because he'd roll along the ground When he was in a hurry. For as he couldn't see his toes, He often tumbled on his nose; So, on the whole, 'Twas best to roll When he was in a hurry. "Get up!" the people urged, but he Replied, "There's no use talking; I roll around because, you see, It's easier than walking." And though it looked extremely droll To see the lad lie down and roll, It was, forsooth, For that fat youth Far easier than walking. One day he thought he'd try to ride; Alas, he was so bulky, He tumbled off the other side, Which made him rather sulky. He heard his comrades jeer and scoff, Again he tried and tumbled off, And when he fell They'd shout and yell-- Of course it made him sulky. Just out of town there was a place With rolling ground and hilly, And here Roy started for a race With Dick and Tom and Willy. You'll know of course before you're told That Roy just laid him down and rolled; And so, you see, He easily Beat Dick and Tom and Willy. That day two giants came along From Huncamunca Valley, Seeking some tenpins good and strong For their new bowling alley. They reached the hilly sort of place Just as our hero won the race; "Look at him roll!" They said. "He'll bowl On our new bowling alley. "The other boys are squarely built; For tenpins they'll do finely! No matter if a few get kilt," And then they smiled benignly. Quickly they kidnapped ten small boys, All howling with a fearful noise; They took them all, And Roy for ball, And then they smiled benignly. They hurried to their home and then Began their barbarous bowling. They set in rows the children ten And then set Roy a-rolling. But as the giants were strong and great, They shot poor Roy at such a rate, And with such might, That out of sight Poor Roy was set a-rolling. He rolled and rolled and rolled and rolled, But soon, his fears dispelling, With happiness he did behold He'd safely reached his dwelling. Secure and safe from further harms, His mother caught him in her arms, And said with joy, "My darling boy, You've safely reached your dwelling." Now rolling seems to him to be More dangerous than walking. And Roly Poly Roy you'll see Along the sidewalks stalking. He'll always have a certain fear That giants may be lurking near, And so he'll go With motion slow Along the sidewalk stalking. Carolyn Wells's other poems: ![]() Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1178 |
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Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |