But still, with all the wisdom of a hundred million years,
He tried to be more sanguine and resist his growing fears,
Till Palæolithic ages brought Dame Nature’s latest joys
And all that Golden Island rang and rippled with the noise.
“Good gracious!” said the Zagabog;
“God bless us!” cried the Zagabog,
“They’re little girls and boys!”
X
About his throne with laughter shrill the lads and lasses came,
And put their little hands in his and bade him make a game;
So still he rules and still he helps the children with their fun.
Of course he’ll never die himself, there being only one--
One calm, persistent Zagabog,
One good pre-Cambrian Zagabog
Beyond the setting sun.