The Winters are so short –
I’m hardly justified
In sending all the Birds away –
And moving into Pod –
Myself — for scarcely settled –
The Phoebes have begun –
And then — it’s time to strike my Tent –
And open House — again –
It’s mostly, interruptions –
My Summer — is despoiled –
Because there was a Winter — once –
And all the Cattle — starved –
And so there was a Deluge –
And swept the World away –
But Ararat’s a Legend — now –
And no one credits Noah –
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