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Show 'if LINES TO THE LIVER. Let poets rave, as poets will, About the heart nnd oul, Aiul In dome nlch-toncd sonnet still Their lofty worth extol. I, who must wulk In humble ways Ami modest muses woo, I write this simple sorie to praise The liver good anil true, What'n heart or soul to mortal man, Whiit's nn thing, nlck! To us poor bilious creatures when Th lHer's out of whnck7 WWlf S' ntlinent. 1 take It, Is All well enough and nice, Yet whin we como right down to "biz. Tin Ihir cuts tho Ice. So ilnn't you to tho spooney linrdV Toft sentiment succumb. To- 1m who highest truth mm ids Will keep his liver plumb. He knows that heart and bouI may bless A mm tnl, In n way. Hut oh' they're both "it. G." unless J ih Your llxtr's nil "O. K." im !! hi i i iimiiiii 111 mii'mnmiHF 1 1 iiiwii i 11 i n - |
