Oh Ellery, you boy whose wit and tongue
Are legend, and your heart surprising, soft;
You crow your victories and thrills among
The pack of us, who think about you oft.
You cook for us, great hearty meaty food,
And we will eat until our throats are full.
You do not think the foods we make are good.
If we complain, you find us rather dull.
Your loyalty is fierce and without end,
And woe betide a friend who does you wrong—
But woe-er still to one who hurts your friend;
Their punishment is swift, their suff’ring long.
I hope it never comes to pass that we
abide without you, here at A.N.D.
No comments:
Post a Comment