The Dromedary

The Lion, the Lion, he dwells in the Waste,
He has a big head and a very small waist;
But his shoulders are stark, and his jaws they are grim,
And a good little child will not play with him.

Here's to the Dove of Peace!
May she find a mate some day,
And may her tribe increase
As fast as she can lay!


With cooing doves galore
Then may the sky be dark
Until the Dogs of War
Can't see each other bark!

The Big Baboon is found upon
The plains of Cariboo:
He goes about with nothing on
(A shocking thing to do).

But if he dressed up respectably
And let his whiskers grow,
How like this Big Baboon would be
To Mister So-and-so!

When people call this beast to mind,
They marvel more and more
At such a little tail behind,
So large a trunk before.

The species Man and Marmozet
Are intimately linked;
The Marmozet survives as yet,
But Men are all extinct.

Curly head, and laughing eyes,--
Mischief that all blame defies.

Cricket,--footer,--Eton-jacket,--
Everlasting din and racket.

Tennis,--boating,--socks and ties,--
Tragedies,--and comedies.

Business,--sobered,--getting on,--
One girl now,--The Only One.

London Scottish,--sporran,--kilt,--
Bonnet cocked at proper tilt.

Dies Irae!--Off to France,--
Lord,--a safe deliverance!

Deadly work,--foul gases,--trenches;
Naught that radiant spirit quenches.

Letters dated "Somewhere--France,"--
Mud,--and grub,--and no romance.

Hearts at home all on the quiver,
Telegrams make backbones shiver.

Silence!--Feverish enquiry;--
Dies Irae!--Dies Irae!

His the joy,--and ours the pain,
But, ere lon...