Expectation

'Tls fortúnate we cannot know the cruel truths that frown When the fond mirage of fancy turna the future upsidedown. We dreamed o' June by nl;ht and sang her blandishments by day, And neglected to be grateful to kind, coinfortable May. We prophesied a state wherein the human race sh'mld flnd A world embowered wlth beauty, and an atmosphere so kind That wistfulness should vanish as it met perfecti on's plan- But the only oue that's happy Is the soda water man. Ay, hereitis; the season of the springtime poet's dream, When the dewdrop hits the pavement with a little pnffof steam. The Junetide, when we note with feelings of regret and pain, A persplratory deluge and a mournful dearth of rain. The flowers that we longed for, with their perfume soft and sweet, Have given up and withered, for they couldn't stand the heat. Our balmy zephrys we must manufacture with a fan, And the only man that's happy is ths soda water man.