THE END OF JOI
HEY climbed the trees ... As was told before,
The Glugs climbed trees in the days of yore,
When the oldest tree in the land to-day
Was a tender little seedling—Nay,
This climbing habit was old, so old
That even the cheeses could not have told
When the past Glug people first began
To gives their lives to the climbing plan.
And the legend ran
That the art was old as the mind of man.
And even the mountains old and hoar,
And the billows that broke on Gosh's shore
Since the far-off neolithic night,
All knew the Glugs quite well by sight.
And they tell of a perfectly easy way:
For yesterday's Glug is the Glug of to-day.
And they climb the trees when the thunder rolls,
To solemnly salve their shop-worn souls.
For they fear the coals
That threaten to frizzle their shop-worn souls.
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