Twelve
snails went walking after night,
They’d creep an inch or so,
Then stop and bug their eyes
And blow.
Some folks… are… deadly… slow.
Twelve snails went walking yestereve,
Led by their fat old king.
They were so dull their princeling had
No
sceptre, robe, or ring-
Only a paper cap to wear
When nightly journeying.
(Vachel Lindsay, from "The Haughty Snail-King")
(from The Congo, and
Other Poems by Vachel Lindsay)
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