Road-Song Of The Bandar-Log

<p><p>Here we go in a flung festoon,<br> Half-way up to the jealous moon!<br> Don’t you envy our pranceful bands?<br> Don’t you wish you had extra hands?<br> Wouldn’t you like if your tails were–so–<br> Curved in the shape of a Cupid’s bow?<br> Now you’re angry, but–never mind,<br> Brother, thy tail hangs down behind!<br><br> Here we sit in a branchy row,<br> Thinking of beautiful things we know;<br> Dreaming of deeds that we mean to do,<br> All complete, in a minute or two–<br> Something noble and wise and good,<br> Done by merely wishing we could.<br> We’ve forgotten, but–never mind,<br> Brother, thy tail hangs down behind!<br><br> All the talk we ever have heard<br> Uttered by bat or beast or bird–<br> Hide or fin or scale or feather–<br> Jabber it quickly and all together!<br> Excellent! Wonderful! Once again!<br><br> Now we are talking just like men!<br> Let’s pretend we are … never mind,<br> Brother, thy tail hangs down behind!<br> This is the way of the Monkey-kind.<br><br> Then join our leaping lines that scumfish through the pines,<br> That rocket by where, light and high, the wild grape swings.<br> By the rubbish in our wake, and the noble noise we make,<br> Be sure, be sure, we’re going to do some splendid things!