Sigh of regret is flung.
Flaming parrots and pink flamingoes,
Birds of Paradise, frail as fair;
Monkeys talking a hundred lingoes,
Ring-tailed lemur and Polar bear—
Somehow our grief was not profound
When they passed to the Happy Hunting Ground;
Deer and ducks and yellow dog dingoes
Croaked, but we did not care.
But you—ah, you were our pride, our treasure,