A Nursery Tragedy - Poem by Laura E. Richards

It was a lordly elephant,
His name, his name was Sprite;
He stood upon the nursery floor,
All ready for a fight.

He looked upon the rocking-horse,
Who proudly prancing stood:
"O rocking-horse! O shocking horse!
I'm thirsting for your blood!

"How dare you stand and look at me,
You ugly snorting thing?
Know, that of every living beast,
The elephant is king!

"And if a person looks at me,
Unless I give him leave,
He's very apt to meet his death
Too swiftly for reprieve.

"You are the most unpleasant beast
I e'er have looked on yet;
Although the stupid children here
Will make of you a pet.

"I hate your tail of waving hair!
I hate your bits of brass!
But more, oh, more than all, I hate
Your gleaming eyes of glass!

"Were you of cotton-flannel made,
As nursery beasts should be,
With eyes of good black boot-buttons,
You then might look at me.

"I might forgive your want of tusks,
Your lack of trunk forgive;
But that wild, goggling, glassy glare -
No! never, while I live!

"So get you gone, you rocking-horse!
Go to your closet-shed,
And there, behind the wood-basket,
Conceal your ugly head!"

But as the elephant thus did scold
And rage and fume and roar,
The rocking-horse rocked over him,
And crushed him to the floor.