The Autobiography of a Monkey. Paine Albert Bigelow

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      Where the light laughs in through the tree-tops

      And sports with the tangled glade,

      In the depths of an Afric forest

      My earliest scenes were laid.

      In a bower that was merry with smilax

      From the grimace of no-where, I woke

      I was born on the first day of April

      And they called me a jungle joke.

      And the voices of birds were about me —

      And the beat and the flutter of wing;

      While morning returned at the trumpet

      Of Tusky, our elephant king.

      My nurse was a crooning old beldame

      Who gazed in the palms of my hands

      And vowed I was destined to travel

      In many and marvellous lands.

      But little I heeded her croaking,

      For I gamboled the whole day long,

      And swung by my tail from the tree-top,

      Or joined in the jungle song.

      The Elephant:

      Oh, I am the lord of the forest and plain!

      The Lion, Tigers, etc.:

      And we are the beasts that acknowledge your reign!

      The Birds:

      And we are the minstrels that come at your call!

      The Monkeys:

      And we are the jesters that laugh at you all!

      Chorus, All —

      Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Oh, yes!

      The tribes of the jungle are we —

      Our home is the darksome wilderness

      That never a man shall see.

      The Elephant:

      Oh, the jungle was meant and was made for my will!

      The Lions, Tigers, etc.:

      For the sport of the chase and the zest of the kill!

      The Birds:

      For the beating of wings and the echo of song!

      The Monkeys:

      For gambol and grimace the whole season long!

      Chorus, All:

      Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah! Oh, yes!

      For all of the tribes that be

      With homes in the tangled wilderness

      That never a man shall see.

      But, alas, for the boasts of the jungle!

      The men came among us one day,

      And one with a box that made music

      Enticed foolish monkeys away.

      The birds and the beasts of the forest

      Were mute at the marvellous song,

      But the monkeys crept out of the tree-tops —

      An eager and wondering throng.

      The birds and the beasts of the forest

      Kept hidden and silent that day,

      But the monkey-folk formed a procession