E. V. L.
THE LATE WORM
(Being a correction of "A Ballad of the Early Worm," "Punch," October 6th).
Oh ye whose hearts were rent with pain
A few short weeks ago,
Is it unkind to harp again
Upon that tale of woe?
You know the tale—in Punch, I mean—
Pathetic every word;
Three wormlets fought to stand between
Pa and the Early Bird.
You sorrowed for their non-success
(By use of triple strength
They saved their father’s life—ah yes—
But not his total length).
You thought, of course—I know you did—
That Father left his hole,
A briskly virtuous annelid,
To take an early stroll.
Well, now just go and read a book
Called Vegetable Mould
And Earthworms (Darwin); if you look
You’ll find that you’ve been sold.
It’s not my own, it’s Darwin’s firm
Authority I cite:
There never is an early worm;
Pa had been out all night.