The Rubaiyat of Ohow Dryyam

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Title: The Rubaiyat of Ohow Dryyam
With Apologies to Omar
Author: J. L. Duff
Illustrator: Benjamin Franklin
Release Date: November 5, 2007 [EBook #23338]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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RUBAIYAT OF OHOW DRYYAM ***
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[Illustration: The Rubàiyàt of Ohow Dryyàm]
Illustrated by Benj. Franklin
[not of Philadelphia]
_Copyrighted_ 1922
_by_ LEEDON PUBLISHING COMPANY

LEEDON PUBLISHING COMPANY
405 FLOOD BUILDING

SAN FRANCISCO
THE
RUBAIYAT
OF
OHOW DRYYAM
By J. L. DUFF
_With Apologies to_
OMAR
[Illustration]
_Illustrated by_
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
[_Not of Philadelphia_]
_The Rubaiyat of Ohow Dryyam_
I
Wail! for the Law has scattered into flight
Those Drinks that were our
sometime dear Delight;
And still the Morals-tinkers plot and plan

New, sterner, stricter Statutes to indite.
II
After the phantom of our Freedom died
Methought a Voice within the
Tavern cried:
"Drink coffee, Lads, for that is all that's left
Since our
Land of the Free is washed--and dried."
[Illustration:
_And still the Morals-tinkers plot and plan
New, sterner, stricter
Statutes to indite._]
III

The Haigs indeed are gone, and on the Nose
That bourgeoned once
with color of the rose
A deathly Pallor sits, while down the lane

Where once strode Johnny Walker--Water goes.
IV
Come, fill the Cup, and in the Coffee-house
We'll learn a new and
temperate Carouse--
The Bird of Time flies with a steadier wing

But roosts with sleepless Eye--a Coffee Souse!
V
Each morn a thousand Recipes, you say--
Yes, but where match the
beer of Yesterday?
And those Spring Months that used to bring the
Bock
Seem very long ago and far away.
[Illustration:
_The Bird of Time flies with a steadier wing
But roosts with sleepless
Eye--a Coffee Souse!_]
VI
A Book of Blue Laws underneath the Bough,
A pot of Tea, a piece of
Toast,--and Thou
Beside me sighing in the Wilderness--
Wilderness?
It's Desert, Sister, now.
VII
Some for a Sunday without Taint, and Some
Sigh for Inebriate
Paradise to come,
While Moonshine takes the Cash (no Credit goes)

And real old Stuff demands a Premium.
[Illustration:
_A Book of Blue Laws underneath the Bough,
A pot of Tea, a piece
of Toast,--and Thou ..._]

VIII
The Scanty Stock we set our hearts upon
Still dwindles and declines
until anon,
Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face,
It lights us for
an hour and then--is gone.
IX
Ah, my Beloved, fill the Cup that clears
TODAY of past Regrets and
future Fears--
Tomorrow!--Why, Tomorrow I may be
In Canada or
Scotland or Algiers!
X
Yes, make the most of what we still may spend;
The last Drop's
lingering Taste may yet transcend
Anticipation's Bliss--though we are
left
Sans Wine, Sans Song, Sans Singer, and--Sans End.
[Illustration:
_The Scanty Stock we set our hearts upon ..._]
XI
Alike for those who for the Drouth prepared
And those who, like
myself, more poorly fared,
Fond Memory weaves Roseate Shrouds to
dress
Departed Spirits we have loved--and shared.
XII
Myself when young did eagerly frequent
The gilded Bar, and all my
Lucre spent
For bottled Joyousness, but evermore
Came out less
steadily than in I went.
XIII
The legal Finger writes; and having writ,
Moves on--and neither

Thirst nor Wit
Has lured it back to cancel half a line
To give a Man
excuse for being lit.
[Illustration:
_Myself when young did eagerly frequent
The gilded Bar ..._]
XIV
And Bill the Bootlegger--the Infidel!--
When He takes my last Cent
for just a Smell
Of Hooch, I wonder what Bootleggers buy
One half
so precious as the Stuff they sell.
XV
Oh Bill, Who dost with White Mule and with Gin
Beset the Road I
am to Wander in,
If I am garnered of the Law, wilt Thou,
All
piously, Impute my Fall to Sin?
[Illustration:
_And Bill the Bootlegger--the Infidel!--_]
XVI
Yon rising Moon that looks for us again--
How oft hereafter will she
wax and wane;
But, Oh, how oft before we have beheld
_Six_
Moons arise--who now seek _Two_ in vain.
XVII
And when Thyself at last shall come to trip
Down that dim Dock
where Charon loads his Ship,
I'll meet Thee on the other Wharf if
Thou
Wilt promise to have Something on thy Hip.
[Illustration:

_But, Oh, how oft before we have beheld
Six Moons arise ..._]
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Duff
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