Explore "The Gugs of Gosh" by C.J. Dennis on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Now Sym was a Glug; and 'tis mentioned so / That the tale reads perfectly plain as we go.
In his veins ran blood of that stupid race / Of docile folk, who inhabit the place / Called Gosh, sad Gosh, where the tall trees sigh / With a strange, significant sort of cry / When the gloaming creeps and the wind is high.