Page:The Atlantic Monthly Volume 1.djvu/119

1857.] And full they were of pious plums,
 * So extra-super-moral,—

For sucking Virtue’s tender gums
 * Most tooth-enticing coral.

A clean, fair copy she prepares,
 * Makes sure of moods and tenses,

With her own hand,—for prudence spares
 * A man- (or woman) -uensis;

Complete, and tied with ribbons proud,
 * She hinted soon how cosy a

Treat it would be to read them aloud
 * After next day's Ambrosia.

The Gods thought not it would amuse
 * So much as Homer's Odyssees,

But could not very well refuse
 * The properest of Goddesses;

So all sat round in attitudes
 * Of various dejection,

As with a hem! the queen of prudes
 * Began her grave prelection.

At the first pause Zeus said, "Well sung!—
 * I mean—ask Phœbus,—he knows."

Says Phœbus, "Zounds! a wolf's among
 * Admetus's merinos!

Fine! very fine! but I must go;
 * They stand in need of me there;

Excuse me!" snatched his stick, and so
 * Plunged down the gladdened ether.

With the next gap, Mars said, "For me
 * Don't wait,—naught could be finer;

But I'm engaged at half-past three,—
 * A fight in Asia Minor!"

Then Venus lisped, "How very thad!
 * It rainth down there in torinth;

But I mutht go, becauthe they've had
 * A thacrifithe in Corinth!"

Then Bacchus,—"With those slamming doors
 * I lost the last half dist—(hic!)

Mos' bu'ful se'ments! what's the Chor's?
 * My voice shall not be missed—(hic!)"

His words woke Hermes; "Ah!” he said,
 * "I so love moral theses!"

Then winked at Hebe, who turned red,
 * And smoothed her apron's creases.

Just then Zeus snored,—the Eagle drew
 * His head the wing from under;