The Elephant.

A poem by Oliver Herford

This is the El-e-phant, who lives
With but one aim - to please.
His i-vo-ry tusk he free-ly gives
To make pi-a-no keys.
One grief he has - how-e'er he tries,
He nev-er can for-get
That one of his e-nor-mous size
Can't be a house-hold pet.
Then does he to his grief give way,
Or sink 'neath sor-row's ban?
Oh, no; in-stead he spends each day
Con-tri-ving some un-sel-fish way
To be of use to Man.

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