I cannot find my elephant.
He must have run away.
He isn’t on the sofa
where he promised he would stay.
I’ve looked around the living room,
the kitchen and the hall.
My elephant is missing
and I’m not sure who to call.
I’ll need to get a bloodhound
who can track him by his scent,
or hire a house detective
to discover where he went.
He isn’t in the basement
or the attic or the yard.
You’d think, to find an elephant
would not be quite so hard.
Perhaps I’ll make some posters,
and I’ll offer a reward.
I’d make it more, but fifty cents
is all I can afford.
If you should see my elephant,
he answers to “Jerome.”
Please tell him that I miss him
and I wish he’d come back home.
He knows the way. It’s up the street
and down our garden path.
And next time I won’t warn him
when it’s time to take his bath.
ROMEO
What less than dooms-day is the prince's doom?
FRIAR LAURENCE
A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips,
Not body's death, but body's banishment.
ROMEO
Ha, banishment! be merciful, say 'death;'
For exile hath more terror in his look,
Much more than death: do not say 'banishment.'
FRIAR LAURENCE
Hence from Verona art thou banished:
Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
ROMEO
There is no world without Verona walls,
But purgatory, torture, hell itself.
Hence-banished is banish'd from the world,
And world's exile is death: then banished,
Is death mis-term'd: calling death banishment,
Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe,
And smilest upon the stroke that murders
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