Took shape—there squatted close to me, with mien and visage grim,
A dark and hairy caveman, huge of form and bare of limb;
And he eyed me very strangely—and I thought I said to him:
“Oh! prehistoric caveman, did you own some rock-bound lair
Where, secure from interruption, you consumed your scanty fare?
Did you sally forth for hunting—or to seek some maiden fair?
Did you club her on the cranium and drag her by the hair?
“She’d be mostly good when captured, cooked your grub and had her share.
You were happy, Mr. Caveman, tho’ your brawny limbs were bare.
You were cold and hungry sometimes, but upon this point I’ll swear