Now the blue pill is on tap, and likewise the sarsaparilla,
And on the fence and the barn, quite worthy of S. Botticelli,
Frisk the lithe leopard and gnu, in malachite, purple, and crimson,
That we may know at a glance the circus is out on the rampage.
Put then the flannels away and trot out the old linen duster,
Pack the bob-sled in the barn, and bring forth the baseball and racket,
For the spry Spring is on deck, performing her roseate breakdown
Unto the tune of the van that rattles and bangs on the cobbles.
MEDITATIONS OF A MARINER[4]
BY WALLACE IRWIN
A-watchin' how the sea behaves
For hours and hours I sit;
And I know the sea is full o' waves—
I've often noticed it.
For on the deck each starry night
The wild waves and the tame
I counts and knows 'em all by sight
And some of 'em by name.
And then I thinks a cove like me
Ain't got no right to roam;
For I'm homesick when I puts to sea
And seasick when I'm home.