The Rubaiyat of Ohow Dryyam

II

After the phantom of our Freedom died
Methought a Voice within the Tavern cried:
"Drink coffee, Lads, for that is all that's left
Since our Land of the Free is washed--and dried."

[Illustration:

_And still the Morals-tinkers plot and plan
New, sterner, stricter Statutes to indite._]

III

The Haigs indeed are gone, and on the Nose
That bourgeoned once with color of the rose
A deathly Pallor sits, while down the lane
Where once strode Johnny Walker--Water goes.

IV

Come, fill