Page:The Glugs of Gosh (C. J. Dennis, 1917).djvu/116

Because there'd been no father Joi
To guide the quick mind of a boy
Away from thoughts of hate and blame.
Wisdom in these was but a name.
But 'mid the Glugs they count him wise
Who walks with cunning in his eyes.

His task well done, his three rhymes writ,
Sym rose at morn, and packed his kit.
"At last!" he cried. "Off and away
To meet again the spendthrift Day,
As he comes climbing in the East,
To bless with largesse man and beast.

"Again the fields where wild things run!
And trees, all spreading to the sun,
Run not, because, of all things blest.
Their chosen place contents them best.
O come, my little prick-eared dog!" . . .
But, "Halt!" exclaimed his Nibs of Quog.

"Nay," said the Mayor. "Not so fast!
The day climbs high, but sinks at last.
And trees, all spreading to the sun.
Are slain because they cannot run.
The great Sir Stodge, filled full of hate,
Has challenged you to hold debate.