A Geological Madrigal

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I have found out a gift for my fair;
  I know where the fossils abound,
Where the footprints of Aves declare
  The birds that once walked on the ground.
Oh, come, and--in technical speech--
  We'll walk this Devonian shore,
Or on some Silurian beach
  We'll wander, my love, evermore.

I will show thee the sinuous track
  By the slow-moving Annelid made,
Or the Trilobite that, farther back,
  In the old Potsdam sandstone was laid;
Thou shalt see, in his Jurassic tomb,
  The Plesiosaurus embalmed;
In his Oolitic prime and his bloom,
  Iguanodon safe and unharmed.

You wished--I remember it well,
  And I loved you the more for that wish--
For a perfect cystedian shell
  And a WHOLE holocephalic fish.
And oh, if Earth's strata contains
  In its lowest Silurian drift,
Or palaeozoic remains
  The same, 'tis your lover's free gift!

Then come, love, and never say nay,
  But calm all your maidenly fears;
We'll note, love, in one summer's day
  The record of millions of years;
And though the Darwinian plan
  Your sensitive feelings may shock,
We'll find the beginning of man,
  Our fossil ancestors, in rock!

© Francis Bret Harte