The Old Oaken Bucket
The other day, something made me think of the poem "The Old Oaken Bucket," which I had to memorize in 5th grade, and I decided to look for it on the internets, just for auld lang syne.
http://holyjoe.org/poetry/woodworth.htm
first stanza:
How dear to my heart are the scenes of my childhood,
When fond recollection presents them to view!
The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wildwood,
And every loved spot which my infancy knew;
The wide-spreading pond, and the mill which stood by it,
The bridge, and the rock where the cataract fell;
The cot of my father, the dairy-house nigh it,
And een the rude bucket which hung in the well
The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,
The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well.
On the page is a link to a parody of the poem (As Revised by the Board of Health)
http://holyjoe.org/poetry/anon1.htm
revised first stanza:
With what anguish of mind I remember my childhood,
Recalled in the light of knowledge since gained,
The malarious farm, the wet fungus-grown wildwood,
The chills then contracted that since have remained;
The scum-covered duck-pond, the pig-sty close by it,
The ditch where the sour-smelling house drainage fell,
The damp, shaded dwelling, the foul barnyard nigh it
But worse than all else was that terrible well,
And the old oaken bucket, the mold-crusted bucket,
The moss-covered bucket that hung in the well.
The parody is a hoot, including mention of "the frog of unusual size."
It would be well worth your time to read both the poem and the parody. Trust me.