Gosh, what a packed street!
The Secretary, President and TREASURER went by!
"That's not a grackle," said I to all of him,
Seething with their poetry, iron-tongued, grim,
"That's an English sparrow on that limb!"
And they all went home
No more to roam.
[Intemperately]
And I watched their unmade poetry raise up like foam
[With calm majesty]