by Edward Lear

    On the Coast of Coromandel

    Where the early pumpkins blow，

    In the middle of the woods

    Lived the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

    Two old chairs， and half a candle，

    One old jug without a handle——

    These were all his worldly goods，

    In the middle of the woods，

    These were all his worldly goods，

    Of the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo，

    Of the Yonghy-Bonghy Bo.

    Once， among the Bong-trees walking

    Where the early pumpkins blow，

    To a little heap of stones

    Came the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

    There he heard a Lady talking，

    To some milk-white Hens of Dorking——

    "'Tis the Lady Jingly Jones！

    On that little heap of stones

    Sits the Lady Jingly Jones！"

    Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo，

    Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

    "Lady Jingly！ Lady Jingly！

    Sitting where the pumpkins blow，

    Will you come and be my wife？"

    Said the Yongby-Bonghy-Bo.

    "I am tired of living singly——

    On this coast so wild and shingly——

    I'm a-weary of my life；

    If you'll come and be my wife，

    Quite serene would be my life！"

    Said the Yonghy-Bongby-Bo，

    Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

    "On this Coast of Coromandel

    Shrimps and watercresses grow，

    Prawns are plentiful and cheap，"

    Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

    "You shall have my chairs and candle，

    And my jug without a handle！

    Gaze upon the rolling deep

    （Fish is plentiful and cheap）；

    As the sea， my love is deep！"

    Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo，

    Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

    Lady Jingly answered sadly，

    And her tears began to flow——

    "Your proposal comes too late，

    Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo！

    I would be your wife most gladly！"

    （Here she twirled her fingers madly）

    "But in England I've a mate！

    Yes！ you've asked me far too late，

    For in England I've a mate，

    Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo！

    Mr. Yongby-Bonghy-Bo！

    "Mr. Jones （his name is Handel——

    Handel Jones， Esquire， & Co.）

    Dorking fowls delights to send

    Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo！

    Keep， oh， keep your chairs and candle，

    And your jug without a handle——

    I can merely be your friend！

    Should my Jones more Dorkings send，

    I will give you three， my friend！

    Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo！

    Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo！

    "Though you've such a tiny body，

    And your head so large doth grow——

    Though your hat may blow away

    Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo！

    Though you're such a Hoddy Doddy，

    Yet I wish that I could modi-

    fy the words I needs must say！

    will you please to go away

    That is all I have to say，

    Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo！

    Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo！"

    Down the slippery slopes of Myrtle，

    Where the early pumpkins blow，

    To the calm and silent sea

    Fled the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

    There， beyond the Bay of Gurtle，

    Lay a large and lively Turtle.

    "You're the Cove，" he said， "for me；

    On your back beyond the sea，

    Turtle， you shall carry me！"

    Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo，

    Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

    Through the silent-roaring ocean

    Did the Turtle swiftly go；

    Holding fast upon his shell

    Rode the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

    With a sad primeval motion

    Towards the sunset isles of Boshen

    Still the Turtle bore him well.

    Holding fast upon his shell，

    "Lady Jingly Jones， farewell！"

    Sang the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo，

    Sang the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

    From the Coast of Coromandel

    Did that Lady never go；

    On that heap of stones she mourns

    For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

    On that Coast of Coromandel，

    In his jug without a handle

    Still she weeps， and daily moans；

    On that little heap of stones

    To her Dorking Hens she moans，

    For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo，

    For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.