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On the Coast of CoromandelWhere the early pumpkins blow,In the middle of the woodsLived the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.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 the worldly goods,Of the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò,Of the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.

II

Once, among the Bong-trees walkingWhere the early pumpkins blow,To a little heap of stonesCame the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.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-Bò,Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.

III

'Lady Jingly! Lady Jingly!'Sitting where the pumpkins blow,'Will you come and be my wife?Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.'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-Bonghy-Bò,Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.

IV

'On this Coast of Coromandel,'Shrimps and watercresses grow,'Prawns are plentiful and cheap,Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.'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-Bò,Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.

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Lady Jingly answered sadly,And her tears began to flow, —'Your proposal comes too late,'Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò!'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-Bò!'Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò!

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'Mr. Jones – (his name is Handel, —'Handel Jones, Esquire, & Co.)'Dorking fowls delights to send,'Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò!'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-Bò!'Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò!

VII

'Though you've such a tiny body,'And your head so large doth grow, —'Though your hat may blow away,'Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò!'Though you're such a Hoddy Doddy —'Yet a 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-Bò!'Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò! .

VIII

Down the slippery slopes of Myrtle,Where the early pumpkins blow,To the calm and silent seaFled the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.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-Bò,Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.

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Through the silent-roaring oceanDid the Turtle swiftly go;Holding fast upon his shellRode the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.With a sad primæval motionTowards the sunset isles of BoshenStill the Turtle bore him well.Holding fast upon his shell,'Lady Jingly Jones, farewell!Sang the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò,Sang the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.

X

From the Coast of Coromandel,Did that Lady never go;On that heap of stones she mournsFor the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.On that Coast of Coromandel,In his jug without a handleStill she weeps, and daily moans;On that little hep of stonesTo her Dorking Hens she moans,For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò,For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bò.

Сватовство Йонги-Бонги-Бо

I

Как на взморье Коромандел,Где от тыкв рябым-рябо,Поживал в глуши лесовНекий Йонги-Бонги-Бо.Стула два, свечи полштучкиДа кувшин, лишённый ручки, —Вот и всё, в конце концов,Чем владел в глуши лесовПосле дедов и отцовЭтот Йонги-Бонги-Бо,Этот Йонги-Бонги-Бо.

II

Как-то по лесу плутая,Где от тыкв рябым-рябо,Кучку гальки, поражён-с,Видит Йонги-Бонги-Бо.Льётся Леди речь простая,К белым курам долетая.«Это Леди Джингли ДжонсТам, на гальке, – поражён-с! —Вижу Леди Джингли Джонс!» —Молвил Йонги-Бонги-Бо,Молвил Йонги-Бонги-Бо.

III

«Леди Джингли! Леди Джингли!Где в глазах от тыкв рябо,Станете ли мне женой?» —Молвил Йонги-Бонги-Бо.«Я устал без половинки,Жизнь пуста, в ней нет живинки,Леди, сжальтесь надо мной:Если станете женой,Станет жизнь моя иной», —Молвил Йонги-Бонги-Бо,Молвил Йонги-Бонги-Бо.

IV

«Здесь, на взморье Коромандел,От жерух в глазах рябоИ цена креветкам грош, —Молвил Йонги-Бонги-Бо. —Стула два, свечи полштучкиИ кувшин, лишённый ручки, —Будут ваши, дар хорош(Рыба тоже стоит грош),От любви бросает в дрожь», —Молвил Йонги-Бонги-Бо,Молвил Йонги-Бонги-Бо.

V