NOAH'S granddaughter Sat on his knee; Her questions like water Gushed ceaselessly. Her hair's gilded wool Seems the sun's tent; Her mouth, a grape golden-cool, Shows through the rent. Noah's replies Are all one hears; And the small ripples rise Like listening ass-ears. "That young giraffe? His proud elevation Raises a laugh To the height of quotation. . . . The camel's face Is like Mrs. Grundy's; He makes that grimace At working on Sundays. The kangaroo, chaste, Of Victorian complexion, Wears at her waist Each pledge of affection. The trunk of the elephant Is not a box, The cock's gilded crown can't Frighten the fox." * * * * * The sea-gods talk Greek . . . But they learn the word "why"; Like leaves of the palm, Their beards, gilded and dry Are spreading upon The blue marble Pompeii Whose temples are gone (So the sea seems); Aglae Asks "What for?" . . . The waves' door Begins to slam. Like water the questions pour. Noah said "Damn!" |