The dear old Equator,
The quaint old Equator
That ran round the world.
From sunset to moonset I look for it vainly,
I seek it at noontide, I hunt it at dawn;
And when I don’t find it I see very plainly,
Too plainly, alas, that it’s probably gone!
I bade it good-night with the fondest affection,
And lay down beside it to take a brief nap,
But leaving no clew that could lead to detection