Birds of Paradise, frail as fair;
Monkeys talking a hundred lingoes,
Ring-tailed lemur and Polar bear--
Somehow our grief was not profound
When they passed to the Happy Hunting Ground;
Deer and ducks and yellow dog dingoes
Croaked, but we did not care.

But you--ah, you were our pride, our treasure,
Care-free child of a kingly race.
Undemonstrative? Yes, in a measure,
But every movement replete with grace.
Whiles we mocked at the monkeys' tricks
Or pored apart on the apteryx;
These could yield but a passing pleasure;
Yours was the primal place.

How our little ones' hearts would flutter
When your intelligent eye peeped out,
Saying as plainly as words could utter,
"Hurry up with that Brussels-sprout!"
How we chortled with simple joy
When you bit that impudent errand-boy;
"That'll teach him," we heard you mutter,
"Whether I've got the gout."

Fairest, rarest in all the Zoo, you
Bound us tight in affection's bond;
Now you're gone from the friends that knew you,
Wails the whaup in the Waders' Pond;