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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=508690" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Ballad Of Casey's Billy-Goat</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">You've heard of "Casey at The Bat,"<br> And "Casey's Tabble Dote";<br> But now it's time<br> To write a rhyme<br> Of "Casey's Billy-goat."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Pat Casey had a billy-goat he gave the name of Shamus,<br>Because it was (the neighbours said) a national disgrace.<br>And sure enough that animal was eminently famous<br>For masticating every rag of laundry round the place.<br>For shirts to skirts prodigiously it proved its powers of chewing;<br>The question of digestion seemed to matter not at all;<br>But you'll agree, I think with me, its limit of misdoing<br>Was reached the day it swallowed Missis Rooney's ould red shawl.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now Missis Annie Rooney was a winsome widow women,<br>And many a bouncing boy had sought to make her change her name;<br>And living just across the way 'twas surely only human<br>A lonesome man like Casey should be wishfully the same.<br>So every Sunday, shaved and shined, he'd make the fine occasion<br>To call upon the lady, and she'd take his and coat;<br>And supping tea it seemed that she might yield to his persuasion,<br>But alas! he hadn't counted on that devastating goat.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For Shamus loved his master with a deep and dumb devotion,<br>And everywhere that Casey went that goat would want to go;<br>And though I cannot analyze a quadruped's emotion,<br>They said the baste was jealous, and I reckon it was so.<br>For every time that Casey went to call on Missis Rooney,<br>Beside the gate the goat would wait with woefulness intense;<br>Until one day it chanced that they were fast becoming spooney,<br>When Shamus spied that ould red shawl a-flutter on the fence.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now Missis Rooney loved that shawl beyond all rhyme or reason,<br>And maybe 'twas an heirloom or a cherished souvenir;<br>For judging by the way she wore it season after season,<br>I might have been as precious as a product of Cashmere.<br>So Shamus strolled towards it, and no doubt the colour pleased him,<br>For he biffed it and he sniffed it, as most any goat might do;<br>Then his melancholy vanished as a sense of hunger seized him,<br>And he wagged his tail with rapture as he started in to chew.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Begorrah! you're a daisy," said the doting Mister Casey<br>to the blushing Widow Rooney as they parted at the door.<br>"Wid yer tinderness an' tazin' sure ye've set me heart a-blazin',<br>And I dread the day I'll nivver see me Anniw anny more."<br>"Go on now wid yer blarney," said the widow softly sighing;<br>And she went to pull his whiskers, when dismay her bosom smote. . . .<br>Her ould red shawl! 'Twas missin' where she'd left it bravely drying -<br>Then she saw it disappearing - down the neck of Casey's goat.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fiercely flamed her Irish temper, "Look!" says she, "The thavin' divvle!<br>Sure he's made me shawl his supper. Well, I hope it's to his taste;<br>But excuse me, Mister Casey, if I seem to be oncivil,<br>For I'll nivver wed a man wid such a misbegotten baste."<br>So she slammed the door and left him in a state of consternation,<br>And he couldn't understand it, till he saw that grinning goat:<br>Then with eloquence he cussed it, and his final fulmination<br>Was a poem of profanity impossible to quote.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So blasting goats and petticoats and feeling downright sinful,<br>Despairfully he wandered in to Shinnigan's shebeen;<br>And straightway he proceeded to absorb a might skinful<br>Of the deadliest variety of Shinnigan's potheen.<br>And when he started homeward it was in the early morning,<br>But Shamus followed faithfully, a yard behind his back;<br>Then Casey slipped and stumbled, and without the slightest warning<br>like a lump of lead he tumbled - right across the railroad track.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And there he lay, serenely, and defied the powers to budge him,<br>Reposing like a baby, with his head upon the rail;<br>But Shamus seemed unhappy, and from time to time would nudge him,<br>Though his prods to protestation were without the least avail.<br>Then to that goatish mind, maybe, a sense of fell disaster<br>Came stealing like a spectre in the dim and dreary dawn;<br>For his bleat of warning blended with the snoring of his master<br>In a chorus of calamity - but Casey slumbered on.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet oh, that goat was troubled, for his efforts were redoubled;<br>Now he tugged at Casey's whisker, now he nibbled at his ear;<br>Now he shook him by the shoulder, and with fear become bolder,<br>He bellowed like a fog-horn, but the sleeper did not hear.<br>Then up and down the railway line he scampered for assistance;<br>But anxiously he hurried back and sought with tug and strain<br>To pull his master off the track . . . when sudden! in the distance<br>He heard the roar and rumble of the fast approaching train.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Did Shamus faint and falter? No, he stood there stark and splendid.<br>True, his tummy was distended, but he gave his horns a toss.<br>By them his goathood's honour would be gallantly defended,<br>And if their valour failed him - he would perish with his boss<br>So dauntlessly he lowered his head, and ever clearer, clearer,<br>He heard the throb and thunder of the Continental Mail.<br>He would face the mighty monster. It was coming nearer, nearer;<br>He would fight it, he would smite it, but he'd never show his tail.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Can you see that hirsute hero, standing there in tragic glory?<br>Can you hear the Pullman porters shrieking horror to the sky?<br>No, you can't; because my story has no end so grim and gory,<br>For Shamus did not perish and his master did not die.<br>At this very present moment Casey swaggers hale and hearty,<br>And Shamus strolls beside him with a bright bell at his throat;<br>While recent Missis Rooney is the gayest of the party,<br>For now she's Missis Casey and she's crazy for that goat.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You're wondering what happened? Well, you know that truth is stranger<br>Than the wildest brand of fiction, so Ill tell you without shame. . . .<br>There was Shamus and his master in the face of awful danger,<br>And the giant locomotive dashing down in smoke and flame. . . .<br>What power on earth could save them? Yet a golden inspiration<br>To gods and goats alike may come, so in that brutish brain<br>A thought was born - the ould red shawl. . . . Then rearing with elation,<br>Like lightning Shamus threw it up - AND FLAGGED AND STOPPED THE TRAIN.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+William+Service">Robert William Service</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=508690" data-title="The Ballad Of Casey's Billy-Goat de Robert William Service" data-description="You've heard of "Casey at The Bat," And "Casey's Tabble Dote"; But now it's time To write a rhyme Of "Casey's Billy-goat." Pat Casey had a billy-goat he gave the name of Shamus, Because it was (the neighbours sai..."></div> </div> </div>
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