Our sanitation! Tis the art
Of filling up our homes with drains.
Ah! Sewer-gas acts well its part
By conjuring up man's aches and pains.
The beauteous scarlet fever skips
With typhoid hand in hand.
While sweet Diptheria gaily trips
O'er stationary washstand.
The cholera doth laugh to see
Its comma bacilli.
Old dysentery's microbe
Is out upon the fly.
Malaria with its poisonous dart
Lurks 'neath the water-trap.
Measles upon its round doth start,
Small-pox wakes from its nap.
The crafty plumber makes his bill,
The sewer-gas ascends.
The doctor gives a sugar pill
'Tis thus we lose our friends.
The undertaker says 'tis well,
The funeral corteges pass.
The letters on the tombstone spell
Hic Jacet, Sewer-Gas.
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