The summer like a rajah dies,
And every widowed tree
Kindles for Congregationalist eye
An alien suttee.

Sure, deck your limbs in pants,
Yours are the limbs, my sweeting.
You look divine as you advance . .
Have you seen yourself retreating?

Some primal termite knocked on woo
And tasted it, and found it good!
And that is why your Cousin May
Fell through the parlor floor toda

In spite of her sniffle,
Isabel’s chiffle.
Some girls with a sniffle
Would be weepy and tiffle;
They would look awful,

When the thunder stalks the sky,
When tickle-footed walks the fly,
When shirt is wet and throat is dr
Look, my darling, thats July.
Through the grassy lawn be leather

One would be in less danger
From the wiles of a stranger
If one’s own kin and kith
Were more fun to be with.

Who wants my jellyfish?
I’m not sellyfish!

To keep your marriage brimming,
With love in the loving cup,
Whenever you’re wrong, admit it;
Whenever you’re right, shut up.

The firefly’s flame
Is something for which science has
I can think of nothing eerier
Than flying around with an unident
person’s posteerier.

The hunter crouches in his blind
‘Neath camouflage of every kind
And conjures up a quacking noise
To lend allure to his decoys
This grown-up man, with pluck and