My gentle temper had been wrecked,
That used to be so placid.
I had a headache, the effect
Of much carbonic acid.

"My bones," I said, "from toil you can
Find only one vacation;
Before the coming Age of Man,
Try solidification.

"A modest shale or argillyte
Would make a pleasing closet,
Or in a sober syenite
Your relics I'11 deposit."

"Not so," says Fate; "you'll have to wait;
I can't accept your datum.
Geology prepares her late
And most distressing stratum.

"A future race shall seek your place,
Your geologic station,
And find your last imbedded trace
In the examination."