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<h2> Road-Song of the Bandar-Log </h2>
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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!<br/></p>
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