TO A SLUG (IN ALCOHOL)
Hail, Limax!—clammy, slimy thing,
Poor houseless wretch, of thee I sing!
Though ended is thy earthly run,
Thy glory is but yet begun.
For Science, with obtrusive pride,
Will keep intact thy mortal hide
And suffer thee, for future gain,
In best of spirits to remain.
H. H. BRUENN
Oakland, Cal., Apr. 15, 1900