Castle Wonderful


I know a castle, curious,

Of lovely form and make;

That we may view the castle through,

A hasty peep we'll take.







The framework of my castle proud,

Is neither wood nor stone,

But earthy matter mixed with lime

And hardened into bone.



This frame, of oddments is composed,--

In mind, the number fix,--
/>
Of long and short and thick and thin,

Two hundred just, and six.



And these are fastened each to each,

By hinges, like, or joints,

Which, with an oil so soft and pure,

The Builder wise, anoints.



For garnishing this goodly frame,

Quaint cushions, large and small,

Are fitly fashioned, each in place,

And pliant, one and all.



For cushion covers, deftly wrought,

A scarf so beautiful,

So pinkish-white, so loose yet tight,

So warm and yet so cool;



Upon the smoothly rounded roof

Is strewn the finest floss,

A filmy veil, as soft as silk,--

Or is it fairy moss?







Two windows hath this castle fair,

That shut and open wide,

With cords and pulleys, curtains fringed,

And fixtures fine beside.



These wondrous windows even smile

And speak and fairly dance,

And play at anger, hate, and love,

And mischief, too, perchance.



These windows, too, are marvelous

In that they let the light

Both in and out for him who dwells

Within, the lordly knight.



Two telephones of wondrous make,--

A door, with guards and bell,--

A ventilator, double-bored,

Aye does its duty well.







And ah! within, this castle grand,

Is fitted to a T,

With everything that's needful there

For serving you or me.



And strange to tell, this castle builds

Itself, if but supplies

Be placed within the open door,

With watchful care and wise.







It clears itself too of the dust

And ashes strewed within,

If but the alley-ways are free,

And outlets all a-kin.



And stranger still, this castle comes

And goes where'er the will

Of him who holds the rule within

Shall bid, his hest to fill.



And wondrous more than all beside,

This house the temple is,

Of Him the great designer, God,--

And "all the earth is his."







Now list, and of this castle grand

A further tale we'll tell,

In language plain, so plain that all

May read and heed it well.



The food we eat makes all our blood,

And makes us children grow;

And if we eat improper food

It harms from top to toe.



We all have teeth quite sharp and strong,

With which to chew our food,

And in the mouth are glands and glands--

Yes, quite a numerous brood.



These glands pour out saliva, free,

To moisten what we eat

And then a trap-door at the throat

Performs a wondrous feat



In guiding all the food along

Into the Esophagus,

And thence to stomach through a pass

Called Cardiac Orifice.



And here 'tis mixed with Gastric Juice,

And into chyme is churned

Then through the gateway, Pylorus,

As wiser ones have learned.







'Tis in the Duodenum now,

Where it is mixed with Bile,

And with the Pancreatic juice,

Which changes it to Chyle.



This Chyle flows on, and all that's fit

For nourishment and growth,

Is taken up by Lacteals,

Or "tubes with many a mouth."



These lead to the Thoracic Duct,

Which holds a spoonful large,

And from this Duct a pipe proceeds

Through which it may discharge.



Into the great Sub-clavian vein,

Which to the Heart doth lead,

Whence it is sent into the Lungs,

And into good blood made.



Then back into the Heart it flows,

The muscles there contract,

And pump it into Arteries,

Which wind to every part.



We'd like to tell about the Bones,

The Ribs and Vertebras,

The Clavicle, or Collar-bone,

Breast-bone, and Scapulae;







Of hinge, and ball-and-socket joints;

Of muscles, tendons, skin,

Of lungs and veins and arteries,

Of nerves and heart and brain.



But, Ah! we should your patience tire,

Were we the whole to tell,

So, waiting till another time,

We bid you now, farewell.



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