The Mythological Zoo

How did Medusa do her hair? The question fills me with despair. It must have caused her sore distress That head of curling snakes to dress. Whenever after endless toil She coaxed it finally to coil, The music of a Passing Band Would cause each separate hair to stand On end and sway and writhe and spit,— She couldn't do a thing with it. And, being woman and aware Of such disaster to her hair, What could she do but petrify All whom she met, with freezing eye?


The Siren may be said to be The Chorus-Lady of the Sea; Tho' Mermaids claim her as their kin, Instead of fishy tail and fin Two shapely feet rejoice the view (With all that appertains thereto). When to these other charms we add A voice that drives the hearer mad, Who will dispute her claim to be The Chorus-Lady of the Sea?


The Dolphin was, if you should wish To call him so,—the King of Fish. Though having neither gills nor scales, His title should be Prince of Whales. While too small waisted to provide A Jonah with a Berth Inside, The Dolphin has been known to pack A Drowning Sailor on his back And bear him safely into port,— He was a Taxi-whale, in short.


If you will listen to advice You will avoid the Cockatrice— A caution I need hardly say Wholly superfluous to-day. Yet had you lived when they were rife Such warning might have saved your life. To meet the Cockatrice's eye Means certain death—and that is why When I its features here portray I make it look the other way. O Cockatrice! were you so mean What must the Hen atrice have been!