ODE TO A GIRAFFE.
(On hearing that the Solitary Specimen at the Zoo had just died.)
So Death has paid the Zoo a call,
And claimed you for his own,
Who "neck or nothing" had been left
To bloom—and die—alone.
From far I gazed into your face,
I did not know your name,
You looked uncomfortable, but
I loved you all the same.
Your neck was just a trifle long,
I think you must confess.
I've often thought if, as a fact,
You could have done with less.
But we must take you all in all,
And so I hear with pain
That probably we shall not look
Upon your like again.
I could have spared a buffalo
Or elephant with ease,
An armadillo, or a bear,
A dozen chimpanzees.
When Jumbo left for foreign skies,
I did not shed a tear,
For though his Alice mourned his loss,
I knew that you were here.
You've gone to heaven, if that's where
The good giraffes all go.
I wonder if you'll ever see
What happens down below.
I hope, for your own comfort, not,
But, if you ever do,
Please recognise me as the Man
Who sadly haunts the Zoo.