Ogden Nash August 19, 1902 – May 19, 1971

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I was taught a Nash poem many years ago, I thought was called November: No morn no noon no night no noon November. Has anyone ever heard it before?
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From _Many Long Years Ago: _ THE PARTY Come Arabella, fetch the cake, On a dish with silver handles. Oh mercy! Feel the table shake! Lucinda, light the candles. For Mr. Migg is thir-ty, Is thir- ty, Is thir- -ty. The years are crawling over him Like wee red ants. Oh, three times ten is thir-ty, Is for- ty, Is fif- -ty. The further off from England The nearer is to France. The little flames they bob and jig, The dining hall is breezy. Quick! puff your candles, Mr. Migg, The little flames die easy. For Mr. Migg is for-ty, Is for- ty, Is for- -ty. The years are crawling over him Like wee red ants. Oh, four times ten is for-ty, Is fif- ty, Is six- -ty, And creeping through the icing, The other years advance. Why Arabella, here's a ring! Lucinda, here's a thimble! For Mr. Migg there's not a thing- 'Tis not, I trust, a symbol! For Mr. Migg is fif-ty, Is fif- ty, Is fif- -ty. The years are crawling over him Like wee red ants. Oh, five times ten is fif-ty, Is six- ty, Is seven- -ty. Lucinda, put the cake away. We're going to the dance.
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