Master Tremble's Adventure

As soon as I take my degree
As a classical scholar perfected,
No sharp politician I'll be,
Asking favors of all the elected.
No learned profession my plan,
Nor trade, till my courage is blunter;
For surely, deny it who can?
The greatest of men is the hunter!

There's Cummings the bold lion-tamer,
And fearless, undaunted Gérard,
And Baldwin, by tigers made lamer,
And Speke with his cámelopard.
And one of those days 't will be Tremble,--
Most famous of all, I'll be bound,--
The great lion-crusher, young Tremble,
None equal to him the world round.

Already, I've tested my mettle:
No cat but will flee at my tread;
And let a mosquito but settle
And nip me--that instant he's dead!
Know also that only this morning
A terrible peril I met,
While taking a ramble--no warning--
(That hour shall I ever forget?)

I was longing at heart for a rifle,
And a chance for some wonderful shot
(A lion seemed then a mere trifle,
I would rather encounter than not),
When, presto! a horrible creature
Came buzzing and diving at me,
Aiming straight at my favorite feature--
A horrible, black bumble-bee!

A horrible black humble bumble,
Bound straight for my beautiful nose;
For an instant (I'll own) I did tumble,
But quickly in majesty rose.
Each childish emotion I swallowed,
Moving onward as fast as I could;
The great buzzing monster, he followed
Till we came to a shadowy wood.

Ha! what was that sharp thrill of anguish,
And what the great swelling that came?
And why was I rushing and shouting--
The whole of my face in a flame?
I knew that the buzzing was louder,
That my nose was as big as my head;
I wanted to grind him to powder;
I wished him a thousand times dead!

Blind battle! my ev'ry-day jacket
Was tighter than steel coat of mail,
And the monster kept up such a racket,
I scarce knew his head from his tail.
He, plunging and wheeling and darting
And pitching and screeching at me;
I, maddened with burning and smarting--
What wonder I dodged by a tree!

What wonder that soon, in his frenzy,
My murderous foe bumped his head!
The tree never tumbled nor tottered,
But he fell co-chunk in its stead.
Then I turned, in a terrible passion,
And stamped with my full might and main:
I stamped in the sledge-hammer fashion,--
My bee never bumbled again!

Then why should I not be a hunter,
So gallant and fearless and spry?
What other vocation would answer
For such a brave fellow as I?
Ah! woe to the beasts of the forest!
And woe to all monsters with wings!
As soon as my studies are over,
I mean to do terrible things.