THE BLUE KNIGHT.

Oh, you can search hither, and you can search thither,
And you can search over and under and through,
But no one knows whether, and no one knows whither
The Blue Knight has gone with his Mystic Kazoo.
            Oh, whether or whither,
            Or hither or thither—
Oh, where has he gone with his Mystic Kazoo?

 

In olden days (golden days), roughly and readily
Knights in bright armor all knew what to do;
And no knight did better than, slowly and steadily,
That magical Knight with his Mystic Kazoo.
            Oh, roughly and readily,
            Slowly and steadily,
Where has he gone with his Mystic Kazoo?

 

Five nights in a row, as I paced on the ceiling,
Five knights in a row hummed along while he blew
A rare old Allegro with infinite feeling,
As only he could, on his Mystic Kazoo.
            I still pace the ceiling,
            But not with such feeling—
Oh, where has he gone with his Mystic Kazoo?

 

For five afternoons, while I danced on the shrubbery,
He blew forth his melodies, sacred and true;
Five knights backed him up with cow-bells and wash-tubbery,
But no other knight knew the Mystic Kazoo.
            I’ve flattened the shrubbery,
            Lost the wash-tubbery—
Where has he gone with his Mystic Kazoo?

 

Five mornings, lost mornings, at dawn’s early rising,
I woke to the sound of a dairy-cow’s moo;
The cow seemed annoyed, which was hardly surprising:
Beside her the Knight blew his Mystic Kazoo.
            Now there’s nothing surprising
            At dawn’s early rising.
Oh, where has he gone with his Mystic Kazoo?

 

I hung from the floorboards all evening one morning,
Enchanted as melodies fluttered and flew;
Alas, had I known he was blowing a warning,
I’d have begged him to stay with his Mystic Kazoo!
            I hung there all morning
            And missed his plain warning—
Oh, where has he gone with his Mystic Kazoo?

 

And now knights are fewer, and nights are all longer,
And days have grown grayer, as days often do,
And summer grows weaker, and winter grows stronger,
And all for the lack of a Mystic Kazoo!
            Spring weaker, fall stronger,
            Days shorter, nights longer—
Oh, where has he gone with his Mystic Kazoo?

 

And we’ve looked up and down till we’re starting to blither;
We’ve checked Manitoba, Dubai, and Peru,
But no one knows whether, and no one knows whither
The Blue Knight has gone with his Mystic Kazoo.
            Oh, look till you blither,
            But no one knows whither—
Oh, where has he gone with his Mystic Kazoo?

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