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The Cumberbunce, without ado, Gazed sadly on the ocean blue, And, lifting up its little head, In tones of awful longing, said: SteveMadden Shoes Stride Right Shoes Minetonka Moccasins "Oh, I would sing of mackerel skies, And why the sea is wet, Of jelly-fish and conger-eels, And things that I forget. And I would hum a plaintive tune Of why the waves are hot As water boiling on a stove, Excepting that they're not! "And I would sing of hooks and eyes, And why the sea is slant, And gayly tips the little ships, Excepting that I can't! I never sang a single song, I never hummed a note. There is in me no melody, No music in my throat. Gravis Skateboarding Shoes Lowa Hiking Boots Naot Sandals Allen Edmonds Fairfax Shoes "So that is why I do not sing Of sharks, or whales, or anything!" I looked in innocent surprise, My wonder showing in my eyes. "Then why, O, Cumberbunce," I cried, "Did you come walking at my side And ask me if you, please, might sing, When you could not warble anything?" "I did not ask permission, sir, I really did not, I aver. You, sir, misunderstood me, quite. I did not ask you if I might. Had you correctly understood, You'd know I asked you if I could. So, as I cannot sing a song, Your answer, it is plain, was wrong. The fact I could not sing I knew, But wanted your opinion, too." A voice came softly o'er the lea. "Farewell! my mate is calling me!" I saw the creature disappear, Its voice, in parting, smote my ear-- "I thought all people understood The difference 'twixt 'might' and 'could'!" |
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