Quadrilatoral area, hail!
Oh bright is the light of magnesium!—
Oh hang them all, female and male!
At the end of an hour of their stinging,
What shall rest of me then, what remain?
I shall die as the swan dieth, singing,
Mosquitos again!
Shock keen as the stroke of the leven!
They sting, and I change as a flash
From the peace and the poppies of heaven