If not in the Garden, he had in the ark,
To neither the beasts nor the passengers joy.
Full many a boyish and monkeyish lark,
The sandy-complexioned, the freckle-faced boy.
And down through the ages he rattles the drums,
While armies and nations each other destroy;
The century goes, and the century comes
But he lives on forever, the freckle-faced boy.
All over the world are the lands of his birth;
And when Time and Transgression this planet destroy
He will come to advise the last man on earth
The fatherly, chummy, the freckle-faced boy.
