A SEA DIRGE
There are some things like a spider, a ghost.
The income tax, the gout, an umbrella for three.
That I hate, but the thing I hate the most,
Is a thing they call the sea.
Pour some salt water over the floor.
Ugly I'm sure you'll allow that to be,
Suppose it extended a mile or more,
That would be like the sea.
Beat a dog till it howls outright—