A calm comes over the
rolling surf,
The beating gulls cease to swim,
And the serpents rise with
curious eyes
When Editha goes to swim.
A hush comes over the
noisy beach,
They flock to the ocean’s rim;
And they linger there in
the bracing air,
When Editha goes to swim.
When Editha goes to swim,
my head
Goes swimming as ne’er before;
I envy the sand, and the
ocean grand,
And the sky and shell strewn shore.
Her suit is so scant, and
it fits so well
Her figure so plump and trim.
There’s more to be said –
but I lose my head,
When Editha goes to swim.
Joe Cone
April 20, 1900
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