Rhymes of a Rolling Stone by Robert W. (Robert William) Service
page 30 of 118 (25%)
page 30 of 118 (25%)
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The Junior God
The Junior God looked from his place In the conning towers of heaven, And he saw the world through the span of space Like a giant golf-ball driven. And because he was bored, as some gods are, With high celestial mirth, He clutched the reins of a shooting star, And he steered it down to earth. The Junior God, 'mid leaf and bud, Passed on with a weary air, Till lo! he came to a pool of mud, And some hogs were rolling there. Then in he plunged with gleeful cries, And down he lay supine; For they had no mud in paradise, And they likewise had no swine. The Junior God forgot himself; He squelched mud through his toes; With the careless joy of a wanton boy His reckless laughter rose. Till, tired at last, in a brook close by, He washed off every stain; Then softly up to the radiant sky He rose, a god again. |
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