Tea On The Lawn

 It was foretold by sybils three
that in an air crash he would die.

"I'll fool their prophesy," said he;
"You won't get me to go on high.

Howe're the need for haste and speed,
I'll never, never, never fly.
" 

It's true he traveled everywhere,
Afar and near, by land and sea,
Yet he would never go by air
And chance an evil destiny.

Always by ship or rail he went -
For him no sky-plane accident.
 

Then one day walking on the heath
He watched a pilot chap on high,
And chuckled as he stood beneath
That lad a-looping in the sky.

Feeling so safe and full of glee
Serenely he went home to tea.
 

With buttered toast he told his wife:
"My dear, you can't say I've been rash;
Three fortune tellers said my life
Would end up in an air-plane crash.

But see! I'm here so safe and sound:
By gad! I'll never leave the ground.
 

"For me no baptism of air;
It's in my bed I mean to die.

Behold yon crazy fool up there,
A-cutting capers in the sky.

His motor makes a devilish din .
 .
 .

Look! Look! He's gone into a spin.
 

"He's dashing downward - "Oh my God!" .
 .
 .

Alas! he never finished tea.

The motor ploughed the garden sod
And in the crash a corpse was he:
Proving that no man can frustrate
The merciless design of Fate.

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