What spines, or spikes, or claws, or nails, or fin,
Or paddle, Ocean-Serpent, dost thou bear?
What kind of teeth show'st thou when thou dost grin?—
A set that probably would make one stare.
What is thy diet? Canst thou gulp a shoal
Of herrings? Or hast thou the gorge and room
To bolt fat porpoises and dolphins, whole,
By dozens, e'en as oysters we consume?
Art thou alone, thou serpent, on the brine,
The sole surviving member of thy race?
Is there no brother, sister, wife, of thine,
But thou alone, afloat on Ocean's face?
If such a calculation may be made,
Thine age at what a figure may we take?
When first the granite mountain-stones were laid,
Wast thou not present there and then, old Snake?
What fossil Saurians in thy time have been?
How many Mammoths crumbled into mold?
What geologic periods hast thou seen,
Long as the tail thou doubtless canst unfold?
As a dead whale, but as a whale, though dead,
Thy floating bulk a British crew did strike;
And, so far, none will question what they said,
That thou unto a whale wast very like.
A flock of birds a record, rather loose,
Describes as hovering o'er thy lengthy hull;
Among them, doubtless, there was many a Goose,
And also several of the genus Gull.
THE FEAST OF VEGETABLES, AND THE FLOW OF WATER. PUNCH.
New Year comes,—so let's be jolly;
On the board the Turnip smokes,
While we sit beneath, the holly,
Eating Greens and passing jokes
How the Cauliflower is steaming,
Sweetest flower that ever blows.
See, good old Sir Kidney, beaming,
Shows his jovial famed red nose.