Explore "Craqueodoom" by James Whitcomb Riley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The Crankadox leaned o'er the edge of the moon / And wistfully gazed on the sea / Where the Gryxabodill madly whistled a tune / To the air of "Ti-fol-de-ding-dee."
The quavering shriek of the Fly-up-the-creek / Was fitfully wafted afar / To the Queen of the Wunks as she powdered her cheek / With the pulverized rays of a star.
The Gool closed his ear on the voice of the Grig, / And his heart it grew heavy as lead / As he marked the Baldekin adjusting his wing / On the opposite side of his head, / And the air it grew chill as the Gryxabodill / Raised his dank, dripping fins to the skies, / And plead with the Plunk for the use of her bill / To pick the tears out of his eyes.
The ghost of the Zhack flitted by in a trance, / And the Squidjum hid under a tub / As he heard the loud hooves of the Hooken advance / With a rub-a-dub -- dub-a-dub -- dub!
And the Crankadox cried, as he lay down and died, / "My fate there is none to bewail,"
While the Queen of the Wunks drifted over the tide / With a long piece of crape to her tail.