Beware, O sacred Mooley cow, the engine when you hear its bell; Beware, O camel, when resounds the whistle's shrill, unholy swell; And, native of that guileless land, unused to modern travel's snare, Beware the fiend that peddles books--the awful peanut-boy beware. Else, trusting in their specious arts, you may have reason to condemn The traffic which the knavish ply 'twixt Jaffa and Jerusalem.
And when, ah, when the bonds fall due, how passing wroth will wax the state From Nebo's mount to Nazareth will spread the cry "Repudiate"! From Hebron to Tiberius, from Jordan's banks unto the sea, Will rise profuse anathemas against "that ---- monopoly!" And F.M.B.A. shepherd-folk, with Sockless Jerry leading them, Will swamp that corporation line 'twixt Jaffa and Jerusalem.
How calm, how beauteous and how cool-- How like a sister to the skies, Appears the broad, transparent pool That in this quiet forest lies. The sunshine ripples on its face, And from the world around, above, It hath caught down the nameless grace Of such reflections as we love.
But deep below its surface crawl The reptile horrors of the night-- The dragons, lizards, serpents--all The hideous brood that hate the light; Through poison fern and slimy weed And under ragged, jagged stones They scuttle, or, in ghoulish greed, They lap a dead man's bleaching bones.
And as, O pool, thou dost cajole With seemings that beguile us well, So doeth many a human soul That teemeth with the lusts of hell.
If our own life is the life of a flower (And that's what some sages are thinking), We should moisten the bud with a health-giving flood And 'twill bloom all the sweeter-- Yes, life's the completer For drinking, and drinking, and drinking.
If it be that our life is a journey (As many wise folk are opining), We should sprinkle the way with the rain while we may; Though dusty and dreary, 'Tis made cool and cheery With wining, and wining, and wining.
If this life that we live be a dreaming (As pessimist people are thinking), To induce pleasant dreams there is nothing, meseems, Like this sweet prescription, That baffles description-- This drinking, and drinking, and drinking.
How cool and fair this cellar where My throne a dusky cask is; To do no thing but just to sing And drown the time my task is. The cooper he's Resolved to please, And, answering to my winking, He fills me up Cup after cup For drinking, drinking, drinking.