Zoo by Harry Graham

For years I led a dreary life!

The days passed slowly, one by one;

I fed the ducks, reproved my wife,

Played Handel's Largo on the fife,

Or gave the dog a run.

I neither realised nor knew

The pleasures of a private Zoo.

I never loved a dear gazelle,

To glad me with its soft black eye,

Nor ever to my lot it fell

To know a penguin really well,

Till, early last July,

I bought a small menagerie,

And oh! the difference to me!

Now, when my spouse, perverse or cold,

Induces an attack of dumps,

I feel encouraged and consoled

When in their manege I behold

My camels' greater humps;

I fly from dear mama-in-law

To Kate, my talkative macaw.

When statesmen's speeches are disgraced

By vulgar insults which denote

A lamentable lack of taste,

I seek my monkey-house in haste

To find an antidote;

I turn for manners to the lair

Of Bosco, my performing bear.

Those " lions " whom we fête and feed,

Heroes of sword or brush or pen,

Are they more dignified, indeed,

Than creatures of that nobler breed

Which decorate my den?

The more my fellow-men I view,

The more I love my private Zoo!