Volume 150 — DACTYLOMANIA.

'Neath skies of inveterate azure, Where bitterns incessantly boom, And, thridding each elfin embrasure, Sleek satyrs enamel the gloom, The gaunt and impassive gorilla Emits a melodious moan As he treads a sedate seguidilla Aloof and alone. The sun, with an amber emotion, Darts down his importunate rays, Distilling a petulant potion Of pale and impalpable haze; And scents of ineffable sweetness Float up from the misty lagoon, Fulfilling in utter completeness Life's ultimate boon. I know not what demons abysmal Will out of the welter emerge; What dews of delight cataclysmal My desolate brow will asperge; I only am sure that this stanza, When handled by slingers of slosh, Will always remain a bonanza For building up bosh.