Just a Little Zephyr. (For the Lance.)
Just a gentle little zephyr lifts your hat high o'er your head, Whirls it down the street before you, makes you wish that you were dead. Just a playful little zephyr turns your gingham inside out, Makes you run at every corner, and blows the little rocks about. AJi, how sweet that little zephyr when it wafts the brick kiln smoke Softly through the open lattice, till you feel inclined to choke. I beseech you, little zephyr, take a message to the Mayor, Let him sniff the perfume rising from the stately bnck kilns fair. Then remand him, little zephyr, of the noble things' to be In the dim and distant future, shadowed by uncertaanty. Fill his dreams with smoke consumers, frownine. towering over all, And if his Worship will not do it. them Hea.v'n protect our new Town Hall —Y. E. L.
Much troubled in mind, the Cynic reclined, His star was not in ascendant ; He deigned not to scoff for he had a bad cough And a tear fiom his nose was pendant. " I'll away ! " said Diog, " To Delphi I'll jog, And consult that oracle sure." He went, and it said, " For a cold in the head Take Woods' Great Peppermint Cure."
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NZFL19040806.2.18
Bibliographic details
Free Lance, Volume V, Issue 214, 6 August 1904, Page 14
Word Count
211Just a Little Zephyr. (For the Lance.) Free Lance, Volume V, Issue 214, 6 August 1904, Page 14
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