POSTHUMOUS POEMS
And we got some idea of selection and evolution, you know—
Professor Huxley's doing—where does he expect to go!
Professor Huxley's doing—where does he expect to go!
III
Well, then came trouble on trouble on trouble— I may say, a peck—
And his cousin was wanted one day on the charge of forging a cheque—
And his puppy died of the mange—my parrot choked on its perch.
This was the consequence was it, of not going weekly to church?
Well, then came trouble on trouble on trouble— I may say, a peck—
And his cousin was wanted one day on the charge of forging a cheque—
And his puppy died of the mange—my parrot choked on its perch.
This was the consequence was it, of not going weekly to church?
IV
So we felt that the best if not only thing that remained to be done
On an earth everlastingly moving about a perpetual sun,
Where worms breed worms to be eaten of worms that have eaten their betters—
And reviewers are barely civil—and people get spiteful letters—
And a famous man is forgot ere the minute hand can tick nine—
Was to send in our P.P.C., and purchase a packet of strychnine.
So we felt that the best if not only thing that remained to be done
On an earth everlastingly moving about a perpetual sun,
Where worms breed worms to be eaten of worms that have eaten their betters—
And reviewers are barely civil—and people get spiteful letters—
And a famous man is forgot ere the minute hand can tick nine—
Was to send in our P.P.C., and purchase a packet of strychnine.
188
