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70

LEAVING HOME

He wandered away from his telescope,
Sat heavily down, and began to mope.
“Mechanical fliers will reach me soon,
I gravely fear,” said the Man in the Moon.
“Deserting their shops and their pavingstones,
The trams and the trains and the telephones,
The bomb, the cannon, the ship and the wreck,
They are looping the Loop of the Broken Neck.
I used to whistle, as merry as June,
And live as I liked,” said the Man in the Moon.
“I used to bubble and chuckle with mirth
Because of the fussing and clatter on Earth,

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And laugh aloud at the fierce and the bold,
Unable to dig for my magical gold,
Or tear the web of the hammock I fetch
At times from a silvery box, and stretch
To make a swing, or a beautiful bed
When melody sounds in my dreaming head.
I fainted once, when a beast of a cow
Jumped over my Moon (I shall never guess how),
But what if an aeroplane, carrying ten
Be-goggled and greasy mechanical men,
Alights in the cabbages, knocks them flat,
And turns to water the heart of the cat?
It's time for the packing of bags. I'll go
And chum with a comet I used to know.
I'll gather my goods and be off by noon,
And puzzle them all,” said the Man in the Moon.