This action might not be possible to undo. Are you sure you want to continue?
I had a cold. The doctor came And five assistants, too; They laid ten icy hands on me, And now I’ve got a flu.
You’ve buried four rich wives and they say The excellent wife you serve everyday Had something to do with the slaughter. What silly talk! It makes me laugh! You’ve pure vintage wine in the carafe-No, thank you, I believe I’ll have water.
Dr. Diadalus is all enthused: He’s just become a mortician. But what he does is what he used To do when a physician.
A HINTED WISH
You told me, Maro, whilst you live You’d not a single penny give, But that, whene’er you chance to die, You’d leave a handsome legacy; You must be mad beyond redress If my next wish you cannot guess.
Tomorrow you will live, you always cry; In what far country does this morrow lie That ‘tis so mighty long ere it arrive? Beyond the Indies does this morrow live? ‘Tis so far-fetched, this morrow, that I fear ‘Twill be both very old and very dear. Tomorrow I will live, the fool does say; Today itself’s too late--the wise lived yesterday