And I know that it shall not die;
Though cities have sprung above the graves
Where the crook-boned men made war,
And the ox-wain creaks o’er the buried caves
Where the mummied mammoths are.
XIV
Then as we linger at luncheon here,
O’er many a dainty dish,
Let us drink anew to the time when you
Were a Tadpole and I was a Fish.