Ogden Nash
The Solitary Huntsman
The solitary huntsman No coat of pink doth wear, But midnight black from cap to spur Upon his midnight mare. He drones a tuneless jingle In lieu of tally-ho: “I’ll catch a fox And
Portrait of the Artist as a Prematurely Old Man
It is common knowledge to every schoolboy and even every Bachelor of Arts, That all sin is divided into two parts. One kind of sin is called a sin of commission, and that is
Winter Complaint
Now when I have a cold I am careful with my cold, I consult a physician And I do as I am told. I muffle up my torso In woolly woolly garb, And I
Look What You Did, Christopher!
In fourteen hundred and ninety-two, Someone sailed the ocean blue. Somebody borrowed the fare in Spain For a business trip on the bounding main, And to prove to the people, by actual test, You
No, You Be A Lone Eagle
I find it very hard to be fair-minded About people who go around being air-minded. I just can’t see any fun In soaring up up up into the sun When the chances are still
No Doctor's Today, Thank You
They tell me that euphoria is the feeling of feeling wonderful, Well, today I feel euphorian, Today I have the agility of a Greek god and the appetitite of a Victorian. Yes, today I
The Hunter
The hunter crouches in his blind ‘Neath camouflage of every kind And conjures up a quacking noise To lend allure to his decoys This grown-up man, with pluck and luck Is hoping to outwit
A Drink With Something In It
There is something about a Martini, A tingle remarkably pleasant; A yellow, a mellow Martini; I wish I had one at present. There is something about a Martini, Ere the dining and dancing begin,
Tableau at Twilight
I sit in the dusk. I am all alone. Enter a child and an ice-cream cone. A parent is easily beguiled By sight of this coniferous child. The friendly embers warmer gleam, The cone
First Child… Second Child
FIRST Be it a girl, or one of the boys, It is scarlet all over its avoirdupois, It is red, it is boiled; could the obstetrician Have possibly been a lobstertrician? His degrees and
A Lady Who Thinks She Is Thirty
Unwillingly Miranda wakes, Feels the sun with terror, One unwilling step she takes, Shuddering to the mirror. Miranda in Miranda’s sight Is old and gray and dirty; Twenty-nine she was last night; This morning
More About People
When people aren’t asking questions They’re making suggestions And when they’re not doing one of those They’re either looking over your shoulder or stepping on your toes And then as if that weren’t enough
To My Valentine
More than a catbird hates a cat, Or a criminal hates a clue, Or the Axis hates the United States, That’s how much I love you. I love you more than a duck can
Sten
There is a knocking in the skull, An endless silent shout Of something beating on a wall, And crying, “Let me out! ” That solitary prisoner Will never hear reply. No comrade in eternity
Two Dogs HaveI
For years we’ve had a little dog, Last year we acquired a big dog; He wasn’t big when we got him, He was littler than the dog we had. We thought our little dog