A MUSEUM IDYLL.
Reader, when you've wandered o'er
The dim Museum's cumbered floor,
And seen the grim and ghastly shapes,
As skeletons of men and apes,
Scorpions' tails and serpents' skins;
Nightmare beetles stuck on pins;
Stalactites and fossils all
Ranged in cases on the wall;
Corals, sponges, and the weeds
The silent floor of ocean breeds;
And the reptiles of the prime
That floundered in creation's slime;
Bushmen's skulls and meteorites,
And all such weird and uncouth sights—
Have you never longed to see
Some relic of Humanity—
Something that would bring to mind
The form and vesture of Mankind,
Something with the bloom and scent
Of sweet human sentiment?
Seek, then, the doorway where one sees
"Colonial Antiquities."
There the cabinets and walls
Sparkle with antique bocals,
Dresden shepherdesses fair,
Old blue Delft and priceless ware
Brought by Dutch East Indiaman
From the ports of old Japan.
