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by Anonymous / Unidentified Author

Language: English 
The shades of night are falling fast,
And we are near the end at last;
In happy homes we know the light
Of household fire gleams warm and bright - 
     (But why "Excelsior"?)

Our tale is of a youth who ran,
As only foreign waiters can,
Balancing, by some strange device,
Two dozen plates of coffee-ice.
     What, twenty-four?
     Yes, even more.

"Fly not so fast," the Porter said, 
"You'll only break your stupid head!"
But rash Alphonso scorned advice;
He slipped, and fell among the ice.
     His hair he tore - 
     "There is no more!"

"The day is hot," the waitress cried;
"They shout for ice! - there inside."
See! with his hand he scoops it back,
A little blacker, if not black!
     He kicks the door,
     "Si, si, Signor!"
(But why drag in "Excelsior"?)

You ask us why? We cannot tell,
For any word would do as well,
Except "Good-bye," which is "taboo";
We scarcely dare to breathe "Adieu."
     Therefore, no more,
     But evermore
     Excelsior - ior - ior - ee - aw!

Note: this is a parody of Longfellow's Excelsior.


Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):

Researcher for this text: Malcolm Wren [Guest Editor]

This text was added to the website: 2017-09-13
Line count: 36
Word count: 179