有一次我心情極佳
    寫了幾行詩，
以為人們照常會說
    它們好極了。

這幾行詩太古怪了，非常古怪，
    我自己都笑得要死；
雖然總的來說，
    我還是個頭腦清醒的人。

我叫來我的僕人，
    他真是太好了，
一個四肢強壯的人，
    卻來照顧我這樣的瘦高個！
我喊道，「把這幾行詩選去排版」。
    而且以我幽默的口氣
補充說(隨便開個玩笑)，
    「會有魔鬼向你付錢。」

他拿走稿紙，我觀察著，
    看見他往裏偷看，
看到第一行，
    他的臉就笑開了。
他看到第二行就笑得裂開嘴，
    而且裂得很大很大。
他看到第三行，
    我開始聽到他咯咯地笑。

看到第四行，他的笑聲大如吼，
    看到第五行，他笑裂了束腰帶。
看到第六行，他笑掉五顆鈕扣，
    而且突然摔倒在地，

十天十夜我沒合眼，
    看護著那個可憐人，
從此我再也不敢盡情寫
    這麼古怪有趣的詩。

老鐵壁

啊，撕下她破爛的國旗！
    它已高高飄揚了很久，
許多人都看到
    那面旗在天空飄揚，
旗下曾響過戰鬥的呼喊，
    進發過大炮的怒吼，──
海洋上空的流星
    將不再掃過雲層。
她的甲板曾為英雄的鮮血染紅，
    被征服的敵人曾在那兒跪下，
當風匆匆吹過波濤，
    底下翻起白色浪花，
再也感覺不到勝利者的腳步，
    再也無法知道被征服者跪下的消息：──
岸邊的魚鷹將向
    海上的雄鷹發動攻擊！

哦，她破爛的廢船
    最好沈到海底；
她雷鳴的巨響震撼了巨大的深淵，
    她的墳墓應該在那裏；
將她那面聖旗釘到桅桿上，
    將每一面破舊的帆都升起，
把她交給風暴之神，
    交給閃電和驟雨！

The Height of the Ridiculous

I wrote some lines once on a time

   In wondrous merry mood,

And thought, as usual, men would say

   They were exceeding good.

They were so queer, so very queer,

    I laughed as I would die;

Albeit, in the general way,

   A sober man am I.

I called my servant, and he came;

    How kind it was of him

To mind a slender man like me,

    He of the mighty limb!

"These to the printer," I exclaimed,

    And, in my humorous way,

I added (as a trifling jest),

    "There'll be the devil to pay."

He took the paper, and I watched,

    And saw him peep within;

At the first line he read, his face

    Was all upon the grin.

He read the next; the grin grew broad,

   And shot from ear to ear;

He read the third; a chuckling noise

   I now began to hear.

The fourth: he broke into a roar;

    The fifth; his waistband split;

The sixth; he burst five buttons off,

    And tumbled in a fit.

Ten days and nights, with sleepless eye

    I watched that wretched man,

And since, I never dare to write

   As funny as I can.

Old Ironsides

Ay, tear her tattered ensign down!

    Long has it waved on high,

And many an eye has danced to see

    That banner in the sky;

Beneath it rung the battle shout,

    And burst the cannon's roar;--

The meteor of the ocean air

    Shall sweep the clouds no more.

Her deck, once red with heroes' blood,

   Where knelt the vanquished foe,

When winds were hurrying o'er the flood,

    And weaves were white below,

No more shall feel the victor's tread,

    Or know the conquered knee;--

The harpies of the shore shall pluck

    The eagle of the sea!

Oh, better that her shattered hulk

   Should sink beneath the wave;

Her thunders shook the mighty deep,

   And there should be her grave;

Nail to the mast her holy flag,

    Set every threadbare sail,

And give her to the god of storms,

    The lightning and the gale!