[Pg 37] “I only feel—farewell!” said he; And always tearful was the telling. Lord Byron was eternally Farewelling.

[Pg 37]

“I only feel—farewell!” said he;

Farewelling.

 “Farewell!” A dismal word, ’tis true.  (And why not tell the truth about it?)  But what on earth would poets do Without it!

“Farewell!” A dismal word, ’tis true.

Without it!

[Pg 38]

[Pg 38]

REFORM IN OUR TOWN

  There was a man in Our Town And Jimson was his name, Who cried, “Our civic government Is honeycombed with shame.”  He called us neighbors in and said, “By Graft we’re overrun. Let’s have a general cleaning up, As other towns have done.”

And Jimson was his name,

Is honeycombed with shame.”

“By Graft we’re overrun.

As other towns have done.”

  The citizens of Our Town Responded to the call; Beneath the banner of Reform We gathered one and all. We sent away for men expert In hunting civic sin, To ask these practised gentlemen Just how we should begin.

Responded to the call;

We gathered one and all.

In hunting civic sin,

Just how we should begin.

 Prev. P 24/75 next