The Beasts In The Tower
Within the precincts of this yard,
Each in his narrow confines barred,
Dwells every beast that can be found
On Afric or on Indian ground.
How different was the life they led
In those wild haunts where they were bred,
To this tame servitude and fear,
Enslaved by man, they suffer here!
In that uneasy close recess
Couches a sleeping lioness;
That next den holds a bear; the next
A wolf, by hunger ever vext;
There, fiercer from the keeper's lashes
His teeth the fell hyena gnashes;
That creature on whose back abound
Black spots upon a yellow ground,
A panther is, the fairest beast
That haunteth in the spacious East.
He underneath a fair outside
Does cruelty and treachery hide.
That cat-like beast that to and fro
Restless as fire does ever go,
As if his courage did resent
His limbs in such confinement pent,
That should their prey in forests take,
And make the Indian jungles quake,
A tiger is. Observe how sleek
And glossy smooth his coat: no streak
On satin ever matched the pride
Of that which marks his furry hide.
How strong his muscles! he with ease
Upon the tallest man could seize,
In his large mouth away could bear him,
And into thousand pieces tear him:
Yet cabined so securely here,
The smallest infant need not fear.
That lordly creature next to him
A lion is. Survey each limb.
Observe the texture of his claws,
The massy thickness of those jaws;
His mane that sweeps the ground in length,
Like Samson's locks, betokening strength.
In force and swiftness he excels
Each beast that in the forest dwells;
The savage tribes him king confess
Throughout the howling wilderness.
Woe to the hapless neighbourhood,
When he is pressed by want of food!
Of man, or child, of bull, or horse,
He makes his prey; such is his force.
A waste behind him he creates,
Whole villages depopulates.
Yet here within appointed lines
How small a grate his rage confines!
This place methinks resembleth well
The world itself in which we dwell.
Perils and snares on every ground
Like these wild beasts beset us round.
But Providence their rage restrains,
Our heavenly Keeper sets them chains;
His goodness saveth every hour
His darlings from the lion's power.
poem by Charles Lamb
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Related quotes
Samson & Delilah
If I had my way, I would tear this old building down.
Well delilah was a woman, she was fine and fair,
She had good looks, God knows, and coal black hair,
Delilah she gained old samsons mind.
When first he saw this woman, you know he couldnt believe his mind.
Delilah she climbed up on samsons knee,
Said tell me where your strength lies if you please.
She spoke so kind and she talked so fair,
Well samson said, delilah cut off my hair.
You can shave my head, clean as my hand
And my strength will become as natural as any old man.
If I had my way, if I had my way, if I had my way,
I would tear this old building down.
You read about samson, all from his works,
He was the strongest man that ever had lived on earth.
One day when samson was walking along,
Looked down on the ground, he saw an old jawbone.
He stretched out his arm, God knows, chains broke like thread,
When he got to moving, ten thousand was dead.
If I had my way, if I had my way, if I had my way,
I would tear this old building down.
Now samson and the lion, they got in a tack,
Samson he crawled up on the lions back.
You read about this lion, he killed a man with his paws,
But samson got his hands around that lions jaws.
He ripped the beast till he killed him dead.
The bees made honey in the lions head.
If I had my way, if I had my way, if I had my way,
I would tear this old building down.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lions Share
[ music: natalie merchant & dennis drew/words: natalie merchant ]
Can I be unhappy?
Look at what I see: a beast in furs and crowned in luxury.
Hes a wealthy man in the poorest land, a self-appointed king,
And theres no complaining while hes reigning.
The lambs are bare of fleece and cold; the lion has stolen that, Im told.
There must be some creature mighty as you are.
The lambs go hungry (not fair), the biggest portion is the lions share.
There must be some creature mighty as you are.
Can I be unhappy?
Listen and agree, no words can shame him or tame him.
The lambs are bare of fleece and cold; the lion has stolen that, Im told.
There must be some creature mighty as you are.
The lambs go hungry (not fair), the biggest portion is the lions share.
There must be some creature mighty as you are, as you are.
Razor claws in velvet paws, you dunce in your guarded home,
til a stronger beast will call on you and pounce upon your throne.
Do we pay? dearly, for the lion takes so greedily
And he knows that what hes taken, it is ours.
Thats how the wealths divided among the lambs and king of the beasts, it is so one-sided.
Until the lamb is king of the beasts we live so one-sided.
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Destroy, Destroy, Destroy
The battle of the beast.
A creature that only knows one thing.
Destroy, destroy, destroy.
It entered the world as nothing more then a mere boy.
Cold and abandoned.
The exiled one.
He knows no love.
He is what no one wants to become.
He lives off of lust and blood.
A pain felt hundred times worse then living on the brink of death.
All he does is fight.
Morning till night.
The battle of the beast.
A creature that only knows one thing.
Destroy, destroy, destroy.
Abused,
constantly confused.
Trust no one.
Get close and suffer.
The forgotten lover.
Neglected and rejected.
And that has created his own protection.
A self projection of what seems sincere.
A wall wrapped up like spider web.
he waits patiently for his victims.
He doesn't show any leniency.
The battle of the beast.
A creature that only knows one thing.
Destroy, destroy, destroy.
The deception is his human form.
Hell rip you apart.
Hell tear out your heart.
When he feast its best to retreat.
For him their is no bias.
He hates all as equals.
No taking pity on one over another.
The battle of the beast.
A creature who knows one thing.
Destroy, destroy, destroy.
He doesn't pillage or plunder.
He decimates and devastates.
He burns entire societies to ground with his anger.
Which causes the constant quake.
The battle of the beast.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black Beauty
Behold the black panther's beauty!
That striking set of eyes!
Yet survival sets its duty -
To hunt until he dies...
So each night, he's slowly bidden
To stalk his prey once more...
Within that darkness he's hidden,
In silence, to be sure...
He treads the ground with gentle paws,
He sniffs the breeze for clues,
He hides his teeth, he hides his claws,
This untamed wild recluse...
The night is young, his turn will come...
His blood runs cold each time...
His heart is beating like a drum...
Yet onward he must climb.
The hours pass, yet he must wait...
The vigil must be kept.
No rest, he mustn't hesitate...
He mustn't be inept!
Was that a rustling dead ahead?
Was that his answered prayer?
Was that a creature that just fled?
All he could do was stare!
Here was the beauty and the beast...
The devil in disguise...
With hunger raging, unappeased...
Till something near him dies...
I pity him, his victims, too...
Is there no other way?
Each night they do what they must do,
The hunter and the prey...
poem by Denis Martindale
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The Tiger- past predator: present prey!
Tiger, Tiger, poached for hide!
By Man’s bullets many died;
Bones and claws of thine are dried;
Poachers have thee crucified.
Past predator, now a prey!
Recklessly killed every day;
Thy extinction is so nigh;
Mortality of thine’s high.
Lord of Jungle, O Tiger!
Hast thou become much tamer?
Thy reserves have dwindled fast;
Wilt thou soon be thing of past?
Oh, what sinews, what muscles!
Victor of fiercest tussles;
Thou with agility stalk;
Despite weight, thou canst cat-walk!
No beast dare challenge thy might;
Thine eyes glimmer green at night;
Thou live in forests so dense;
Mighty beast- ’tis no pretence.
Frightens thy roar every beast;
Stalk thou grassland’s beasts for feast;
What strength fills thy graceful frame!
Jungle Lord, wherefrom thou came?
poem by John Celes
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Defeating...That Beast
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
Think about the distance you've come,
Defeating...the beast.
Think about your decision not to run,
Away...from the beast.
Think about those knees on the ground,
Weeping for the beast.
Think about the dirt you ate,
Fed...by the beast.
Think about celebrating...
Those days ahead awaiting!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
No longer the martyr,
Defeating...that beast.
Get up...and strut about.
You've defeated...that beast.
Let those words come out of your mouth,
'I've defeated...that beast! '
Let the people see and believe it,
You've defeated...that beast.
Whoop...and hollar about,
'I've defeated...and done feeding it!
That beast is outta my house.'
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
More than a piece of cake!
Defeating...that beast.
Gone and eliminated.
Defeating...that beast.
Much more than a piece of cake.
Defeating...that beast.
But gone and eliminated.
Defeating...that beast.
More than a piece of cake.
Defeating...that beast.
Gone and eliminated.
Defeating...that beast.
Much more than a piece of cake.
Defeating...that beast.
But gone and eliminated.
That beatened up beast to beat!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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His Majesty
Behold the lion first to feast...
Behold his majesty!
This is no timid, gentle beast,
No coward soul has he!
His golden mane adorns his form
As he surveys his land...
And it does more than keep him warm,
It helps us understand...
This alpha male, this awesome king,
This sovereign meant to rule.
This titan feared by everything
That's wise and not a fool...
This monument to grand design,
This creature cruel and kind...
This legend will forever shine
Inside each heart and mind.
His growls are fierce and frightening,
They pierce us every time...
With nought held back, like lightning,
Courageous and sublime!
Behold the beast, so widely famed,
Triumphant to the end...
With strength increased, he stands untamed,
On that you can depend!
Don't stand too close! Those sharp teeth bite!
Those claws are meant to scratch!
How few are those who want to fight!
They know they've met their match!
If you're not Samson, run and hide...
Survival is the key...
With all the wisdom God's supplied...
Avoid his majesty!
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'His Majesty'.
poem by Denis Martindale
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The Royal tiger of India
Stressful chattering of birds,
monkeys jumping from one branch to another.,
fluttering wings of birds,
running around of animals,
a sudden unrest in the jungle,
the news spread like forest fire,
there comes the majestic
yellow and black striped beast,
walked slowly on the dried leaves,
the best catwalk if one could luckily see,
the bold and the beautiful,
its the tiger on the scene,
the Royal tiger of India indeed,
unruffeld by noise around.,
unquestionable the king of jungle,
the wildest cat on earth,
unsocial solitary beast,
make every soul to fear for life,
be it a bird, animal, man or a beast.
poem by renu Vig sharma sharma
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Peace In The Valley
Bwell i'm tired and so weary
But i must go on
Til the lord comes and calls me
Away
Where the morning is bright
And the lamb is the light
And the night is as fair
As the day
There will be peace
In the valley
For me (someday)
There will be peace
In the valley
For me (oh lord i pray)
There'll be no sadness
No darkness,
No trouble
I see
There will be peace
In the valley
For me
Well the bear will be gentle
And the wolf will be tame
And the lion shall lay down
By the lamb (oh yeah)
And the beast of the wild
Shall be led by the child
And i'll be changed
Changed from this creature
That i am (oh yeah)
There will be....etc (chorus again)
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Search! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
the mate of beauty
searched for a partner
and found a beast
howling in the forest
she was beautiful
so beauty has no life in her
she wondered if the beast
so powerful could be hers at least.
she mirrored her face
and puzzled went on
what my beauty is to me
if I cant fetch someone strong to fend
The beast was surprised
to win the love of beauty
ugly as its face was
wild were its passions were
beauty was soft and tender
her feelings very delicate and modest
beast was beastly to say the least
all its emotions battled with zest
how could a beauty beast be
or beastly beauty together could be
ridiculed by the irony of the moment
nature prolonged destiny's consent
beauty was enthralled
the fountaining strength of beast she recalled
and amazing vitality and courage she breathed
for her the beast a boosting privilege
beast was honoured
beauty he indulged with decent corners
though he acted for beauty's innocence
still it made no sense for his essence
what drived the maid to crave for his presence.................
in life too young worlds
are crazy and contrary
they search for things
they dont have
passionate about foreign fashions
and imported sperms
or European Wombs
all that is One's own
one fail to rejoice on own..........
poem by Lalitha Iyer
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The Combat
It was not meant for human eyes,
That combat on the shabby patch
Of clods and trampled turf that lies
Somewhere beneath the sodden skies
For eye of toad or adder to catch.
And having seen it I accuse
The crested animal in his pride,
Arrayed in all the royal hues
Which hide the claws he well can use
To tear the heart out of the side.
Body of leopard, eagle's head
And whetted beak, and lion's mane,
And frost-grey hedge of feathers spread
Behind -- he seemed of all things bred.
I shall not see his like again.
As for his enemy there came in
A soft round beast as brown as clay;
All rent and patched his wretched skin;
A battered bag he might have been,
Some old used thing to throw away.
Yet he awaited face to face
The furious beast and the swift attack.
Soon over and done. That was no place
Or time for chivalry or for grace.
The fury had him on his back.
And two small paws like hands flew out
To right and left as the trees stood by.
One would have said beyond a doubt
That was the very end of the bout,
But that the creature would not die.
For ere the death-stroke he was gone,
Writhed, whirled, into his den,
Safe somehow there. The fight was done,
And he had lost who had all but won.
But oh his deadly fury then.
A while the place lay blank, forlorn,
Drowsing as in relief from pain.
The cricket chirped, the grating thorn
Stirred, and a little sound was born.
The champions took their posts again.
And all began. The stealthy paw
Slashed out and in. Could nothing save
These rags and tatters from the claw?
Nothing. And yet I never saw
A beast so helpless and so brave.
And now, while the trees stand watching, still
The unequal battle rages there.
The killing beast that cannot kill
Swells and swells in his fury till
You'd almost think it was despair.
poem by Edwin Muir
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Lion's Roar
In the jungle, a lion's roar,
Loud rumbling from it's core.
Magnificent mane of golden brown,
He is a king but wears no crown.
Predator and enemy they have two,
Human hunters, Hyenas too.
The lion and his lioness pride,
If you cross them, run, don't hide.
The roar of a Lion,
The rolling sound of thunder,
The chase of a Lion,
His prey runs asunder.
The Lion's roar is his symbol,
Of Strength, Of Leadership, Of pride,
The raw Roar sound is tribal,
His pride, so true, abide.
The Dream
O God, in the dream the terrible horse began
To paw at the air, and make for me with his blows,
Fear kept for thirty-five years poured through his mane,
And retribution equally old, or nearly, breathed through his nose.
Coward complete, I lay and wept on the ground
When some strong creature appeared, and leapt for the rein.
Another woman, as I lay half in a swound
Leapt in the air, and clutched at the leather and chain.
Give him, she said, something of yours as a charm.
Throw him, she said, some poor thing you alone claim.
No, no, I cried, he hates me; he is out for harm,
And whether I yield or not, it is all the same.
But, like a lion in a legend, when I flung the glove
Pulled from my sweating, my cold right hand;
The terrible beast, that no one may understand,
Came to my side, and put down his head in love.
poem by Louise Bogan
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The Storm And The Bush
There are only two things in the world—
The storm in the air and the stretch of green leaves;
The flesh of the forest that quivers and heaves
As the blast on its bosom is hurled.
Above is the whip of the wind
That scourges the cowering forest beneath:
The Storm spits the hiss of the hail from his teeth,
And leaves the world writhing behind!
Like a beast that is bound in a cage
When the keeper's lash lights and the keeper's goad stings,
Each tree his great limbs to his torturer flings
In a groaning and impotent rage.
As the leaves to a fiercer gust lean
The wind throws their undersides upward to sight,
And the foam of the forest-sea flashes to white
Out over full fathoms of green.
poem by Arthur Henry Adams
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The Epic Of The Lion
A Lion in his jaws caught up a child--
Not harming it--and to the woodland, wild
With secret streams and lairs, bore off his prey--
The beast, as one might cull a bud in May.
It was a rosy boy, a king's own pride,
A ten-year lad, with bright eyes shining wide,
And save this son his majesty beside
Had but one girl, two years of age, and so
The monarch suffered, being old, much woe;
His heir the monster's prey, while the whole land
In dread both of the beast and king did stand;
Sore terrified were all.
By came a knight
That road, who halted, asking, 'What's the fright?'
They told him, and he spurred straight for the site!
The beast was seen to smile ere joined they fight,
The man and monster, in most desperate duel,
Like warring giants, angry, huge, and cruel.
Stout though the knight, the lion stronger was,
And tore that brave breast under its cuirass,
Scrunching that hero, till he sprawled, alas!
Beneath his shield, all blood and mud and mess:
Whereat the lion feasted: then it went
Back to its rocky couch and slept content.
Sudden, loud cries and clamors! striking out
Qualm to the heart of the quiet, horn and shout
Causing the solemn wood to reel with rout.
Terrific was this noise that rolled before;
It seemed a squadron; nay, 'twas something more--
A whole battalion, sent by that sad king
With force of arms his little prince to bring,
Together with the lion's bleeding hide.
Which here was right or wrong? Who can decide?
Have beasts or men most claim to live? God wots!
He is the unit, we the cipher-dots.
Ranged in the order a great hunt should have,
They soon between the trunks espy the cave.
'Yes, that is it! the very mouth of the den!'
The trees all round it muttered, warning men;
Still they kept step and neared it. Look you now,
Company's pleasant, and there were a thou--
Good Lord! all in a moment, there's its face!
Frightful! they saw the lion! Not one pace
Further stirred any man; but bolt and dart
Made target of the beast. He, on his part,
As calm as Pelion in the rain or hail,
Bristled majestic from the teeth to tail,
And shook full fifty missiles from his hide,
But no heed took he; steadfastly he eyed,
And roared a roar, hoarse, vibrant, vengeful, dread,
A rolling, raging peal of wrath, which spread,
Making the half-awakened thunder cry,
'Who thunders there?' from its black bed of sky.
This ended all! Sheer horror cleared the coast;
As fogs are driven by the wind, that valorous host
Melted, dispersed to all the quarters four,
Clean panic-stricken by that monstrous roar.
Then quoth the lion, 'Woods and mountains, see,
A thousand men, enslaved, fear one beast free!'
He followed towards the hill, climbed high above,
Lifted his voice, and, as the sowers sow
The seed down wind, thus did that lion throw
His message far enough the town to reach:
'King! your behavior really passes speech!
Thus far no harm I've wrought to him your son;
But now I give you notice--when night's done,
I will make entry at your city-gate,
Bringing the prince alive; and those who wait
To see him in my jaws--your lackey-crew--
Shall see me eat him in your palace, too!'
Next morning, this is what was viewed in town:
Dawn coming--people going--some adown
Praying, some crying; pallid cheeks, swift feet,
And a huge lion stalking through the street.
It seemed scarce short of rash impiety
To cross its path as the fierce beast went by.
So to the palace and its gilded dome
With stately steps unchallenged did he roam;
He enters it--within those walls he leapt!
No man!
For certes, though he raged and wept,
His majesty, like all, close shelter kept,
Solicitous to live, holding his breath
Specially precious to the realm. Now death
Is not thus viewed by honest beasts of prey;
And when the lion found _him_ fled away,
Ashamed to be so grand, man being so base,
He muttered to himself, 'A wretched king!
'Tis well; I'll eat his boy!' Then, wandering,
Lordly he traversed courts and corridors,
Paced beneath vaults of gold on shining floors,
Glanced at the throne deserted, stalked from hall
To hall--green, yellow, crimson--empty all!
Rich couches void, soft seats unoccupied!
And as he walked he looked from side to side
To find some pleasant nook for his repast,
Since appetite was come to munch at last
The princely morsel!--Ah! what sight astounds
That grisly lounger?
In the palace grounds
An alcove on a garden gives, and there
A tiny thing--forgot in the general fear,
Lulled in the flower-sweet dreams of infancy,
Bathed with soft sunlight falling brokenly
Through leaf and lattice--was at that moment waking;
A little lovely maid, most dear and taking,
The prince's sister--all alone, undressed--
She sat up singing: children sing so best.
Charming this beauteous baby-maid; and so
The beast caught sight of her and stopped--
And then
Entered--the floor creaked as he stalked straight in.
Above the playthings by the little bed
The lion put his shaggy, massive head,
Dreadful with savage might and lordly scorn,
More dreadful with that princely prey so borne;
Which she, quick spying, 'Brother, brother!' cried,
'Oh, my own brother!' and, unterrified,
She gazed upon that monster of the wood,
Whose yellow balls not Typhon had withstood,
And--well! who knows what thoughts these small heads hold?
She rose up in her cot--full height, and bold,
And shook her pink fist angrily at him.
Whereon--close to the little bed's white rim,
All dainty silk and laces--this huge brute
Set down her brother gently at her foot,
Just as a mother might, and said to her,
'Don't be put out, now! There he is, dear, there!'
poem by Victor Hugo
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Sound of fire
The animal in you takes shape
and transforms,
the body into animal form.
The teeth extend
out of the mouth.
The fingers cripple
backwards into claws
and the back arches upward.
The beast is formed
and is set free,
to run about
and fly forward
on the ground.
The beast is light
as a feather
and gravity is no more,
and the eyes
focus in shape
to see distances far and wide.
poem by Kristy Winter
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The Most Dangerous Beast!
The beast has the fangs of a Werewolf
The claws of a tiger.
It never rests, day or night
Once it scents it prey
There is no escape;
It is impossible to be distracted or deceived.
It has insatiable appetite,
Which cannot be satisfied
With a lunch or dinner.
Always on the hunt,
Prowling like a tiger,
Squeezes like the anaconda,
But thinks like a man.
It can survive in any terrain or climate,
The harsher, the more successful it is.
Its natural habitants are the slums
Of Calcutta, Bombay,
Slums of many third world countries.
Many countries developed nations
Think they have eradicated this beast
But it prowls again
Once condition for its natural habitant
Occurs, even temporarily.
The terrifying beast is
Hunger!
poem by Khadim Hussain
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Our Metal Beast
Down the road we talk and laugh,
In the metal beast that gives us a ride,
Who knows if it is willing,
And who would really care.
Who ever thought we could ruin,
the life of that which gives it back,
the metal beast are everywhere,
Large ones that seem to carry,
Fifty or more on their tracks.
Or the small ones no more than five or six,
they can carry,
These metal beast,
we never question,
these metal beast that spew out death,
in a smokey and floating form.
Our metal beast,
that we learn to love,
Our metal beast are everywhere,
polished and primed,
or rusty and old,
Our metal beast that we hold onto,
that we love,
Or take for granted.
Our metal beast,
spew out death to our home.
poem by Rebecca Adams
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The Little Girl Lost
In futurity
I prophesy
That the earth from sleep
(Grave the sentence deep)
Shall arise, and seek
For her Maker meek;
And the desert wild
Become a garden mild.
In the southern clime,
Where the summer’s prime
Never fades away,
Lovely Lyca lay.
Seven summers old
Lovely Lyca told.
She had wandered long,
Hearing wild birds’ song.
‘Sweet sleep, come to me,
Underneath this tree;
Do father, mother, weep?
Where can Lyca sleep?
‘Lost in desert wild
Is your little child.
How can Lyca sleep
If her mother weep?
‘If her heart does ache,
Then let Lyca wake;
If my mother sleep,
Lyca shall not weep.
‘Frowning, frowning night,
O’er this desert bright
Let thy moon arise,
While I close my eyes.’
Sleeping Lyca lay,
While the beasts of prey,
Come from caverns deep,
Viewed the maid asleep.
The kingly lion stood,
And the virgin viewed:
Then he gambolled round
O’er the hallowed ground.
Leopards, tigers, play
Round her as she lay;
While the lion old
Bowed his mane of gold,
And her bosom lick,
And upon her neck,
From his eyes of flame,
Ruby tears there came;
While the lioness
Loosed her slender dress,
And naked they conveyed
To caves the sleeping maid.
poem by William Blake from Songs of Experience (1794)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Elusive New Zoo Gnu
They had a new gnu at the Zoo
And nobody knew.
Tho' the keeper, they say, had a clue;
And that's probably true,
Since he knew a new gnu was due,
And well he knew, too,
That the mother would hide it from view,
As a natural gnu
Will do.
For the instinct, innate in the gnu,
Known only to few
Is to hide a new gnu lest it rue
What ill-doers do.
Why should nature, we wonder, imbue
A beast like a gnu
With such caution? This fact, hitherto,
Few knew to be true.
Did you?
But they've found it at last at rhe Zoo -
Such a shy little gnu,
White of tail and the coat that it grew
Of indefinite hue.
And now, I suppose, a long queue
Will be waiting to view
This nice little new Zoo gnu.
Such sights ever drew
Quite a crew.
But who knew the new gnu at the Zoo
For the first day or two?
Who guessed where 'twas hidden, and who,
As new rumors flew,
Ever thought, ever dreamed ever drew
Some vague hint, or grew
Suspicious? Where was he? Who knew?
Not the crane, not the white cockatoo
Who ejaculates, 'How do you do?'
Not the apes all emblazoned in blue,
Not the owl with his dreary 'Too-woo!'
Nor tapir, nor tiger who slew
His prey 'mid the ginat bamboo
Once, back of Bengal, in Kooloo;
Not elephant, not kangaroo,
None knew; none knew;
Not aman, not a beast in the Zoo
From its hub to its furthrest purlieu . . .
But the new gnu knew.
Too true!
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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