The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wing of night
As ballast is wafted downward
From an air-ship in its flight.
I dream of a purple creature
Which is not as kine are now;
And resembles cattle only
As Cowper resembles a cow.
Such cows have power to quiet
Our restless thoughts and rude;
They come like the Benedictine
That follows after food.
MR. A. SWINBURNE:
Oh, Cow of rare rapturous vision,
Oh, purple, impalpable Cow,
Do you browse in a Dream Field Elysian,
Are you purpling pleasantly now?
By the side of wan waves do you languish?
Or in the lithe lush of the grove?
While vainly I search in my anguish,
O Bovine of mauve!
Despair in my bosom is sighing,
Hope's star has sunk sadly to rest;
Though cows of rare sorts I am buying,
Not one breathes a balm to my breast.
Oh, rapturous rose-crowned occasion,
When I such a glory might see!
But a cow of a purple persuasion
I never would be.
MR. F.D. SHERMAN:
I'd love to see
A Purple Cow,
Oh, Goodness me!
I'd love to see
But not to be
One. Anyhow,
I'd love to see
A Purple Cow.
MR. B. CARMAN:
Now the joys of the road are chiefly these,
A Purple Cow that no one sees,
A grove of green and a sky of blue,
And never a hope that cow to view.
But a firm conviction deep in me
That cow I would rather be than see.
Though, alack-a-day, there be times enow,
When I see pink snakes and a Purple Cow.
MR. H.C. BUNNER:
Oh, what's the way to Arcady,
Where all the cows are purple?
Ah, woe is me! I never hope
On such a sight my eyes to ope;
But, as I sing in merry glee
Along the road to Arcady,
Perchance full soon I may espy
A Purple Cow come dancing by.
Heigho! I then shall see one.
Her horns bedecked with ribbons gay,
And garlanded with rosy may,—
A tricksy sight. Still I must say
I'd rather see than be one.