By the sea of Sargossa I wandered one night,
The moon it was shining quite clear.
For no reason at all I heard someone call
For Abdul Abulbul Ameer.

Now Abdul Abulbul I knew to be dead,
The story had spread near and far,
How he lost his life while plunging his knife
Into Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.

While I pondered the moonbeams descended quite low
Casting shadows suffusely, and then,
I discovered that I was standing close by
The tombs of those two famous men.

Then in the tombs shadows there rose from a grave
The form of a Russian Hussar,
And my skin nearly peeled, as he stood there revealed,
It was Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.

'Twas he who was calling, I hardly dared breathe,
My heart 'most stopped beating from fear,
When out of a grave, in need of a shave,
Arose Abdul Abulbul Ameer.

"Well, wouldst speak with me Ivan?", quoth Abdul quite low.
"I wouldst", replied Ivan quite clear.
"That quarrel we had, 'twas all to the bad.
Friend Abdul Abulbul Ameer.

"I've lain here for ages with that on my mind,
And that's why I called you tonight".
"Well, I'm in the same state", quoth Abdul the great,
"Twas foolish for we two to fight".

"Oh friend, thou art blameless", cried Ivan in haste,
"The fault lies in my hands alone".
But Abdul said "Nay, 'twas never that way, the fault
Was no one's but mine own."

"Well, dost think I'm a coward?", quoth Ivan Skavar,
"Step forth and I'll slice off thine ear."
"Oh, son of a cat, you'll never do that",
Quoth Abdul Abulbul Ameer.

So once more they battled and fought as before,
The multitudes came from afar,
And lauded with cheers these bold buccaneers,
This Turk, and this Russian Hussar.

Twas just at that moment each sword found its mark
And I heard a blood-curdling scream,
I opened my eyes and to my surprise
I found it was only a dream.
Written by Frank Crumit (1889-1943)
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