than his vagrant 
Papa.
The little Turkey 
is lonely and 
the Chickens 
bring him to call.
His foreign 
Neck in familiar 
Grass is quaint 
as a Dromedary. 
I suppose the
Wind has 
chastened the 
Bows on Mattie's 
impudent Hat 
and the Sea 
presumed as 
far as he dare