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The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 4, Issue 5 (September 1, 1929)

So-Long Sanity

So-Long Sanity.

Hark to the bang of the bursting bud,
And the cryptic cry of the early spud;
Ho for the glow of a red bo-ko,
And the gurgling gasp of drying mud.
Hark to the shout of the Brussels sprout,
Rejoicing that Winter's up the spout,
And the gusty breeze of an early sneeze,
Proclaiming the fact that Flu's about.
Hark to the bark of the hard-boiled egg,
And the gurgling glug of a K.O'd keg,
And the thingomybobs with the shingled knobs,
Who sing in the Spring and “shake a leg.”
Oh, for the Spring, when poets lisp
Of lambkins roasted, and crackling crisp;
When drapers tell of the things they sell,
And Sanity's gone on her annual “frisk.”
Ho, for the season of “racketty-coo,”
When flappers—and octogenarians, too—
Respectively gambol and skittishly amble,
Barefooted in fields of Elysian hue.
Spring to the Spring, for as truly as fate,
She's out on the doorstep, awaiting a date
To take you bewitchingly out on the “skate.”

Enough of A. Bysmal-Bunk, and the rashness and rashes of Spring. Admittedly all the world's a-warbling, and life is one sweet din.