It stood upon its one large foot, and waved its biggest hand,
And spake: “Unhappy man,” it said, “for this have we been burned?
For this have we been kept here long, so carefully inurned?
Oh, see, upon this sacred shelf what dire confusion reigns!
Wretch! What have you been doing with your ancestors’ remains?
You listen to your father’s voice, but thanks, I fear, to you,
It is your uncle Solomon whose mouth it’s speaking through!
Oh, tell me who or what I am, and how long I’ve been dead;
And tell me if I’ve got my own or some one else’s head;
I don’t belong to any special period at all.