THE GARDEN OF EROS. 
2I 
First born ? — I’ll never have another, 
I’m Yaugh Waugh, Yaugh Waugh. 
Bow to Me, you lumpy lambkin ! 
Haw !  Haw !  Haw ! 
Now at last a wooden thing 
That will do my business for me. 
Uck !  Uck !  The morning’s carrion 
Bubbles in my paunch. 
I am belching dreadfully. 
What ?  Uck ?  Uck ?  How strange ! 
For the windy vomit of me 
Shapes itself into a sorry 
And bedraggled pigeon. 
Birdie, have you got religion ? 
Yes, he bows most properly. 
Come then, let us take our counsel 
How to stop this sad behaviour, 
This gross impropriety, 
Irreligion — Uck !  it’s awful. 
Squat, then !  Pigeon, you’re the youngest : 
You speak first. 
 
THE DOVE 
 
Almighty father !