The Diatonic Dittymunch
plucked music from the air,
it swallowed scores of symphonies,
and still had space to spare,
sonatas and cantatas
slithered sweetly down its throat,
it made ballads into salads,
and consumed them note by note.
It ate marches and mazurkas,
it ate rhapsodies and reels,
minuets and tarantellas
were the staples of its meals,
but the Diatonic Dittymunch
outdid itself one day,
it ate a three-act opera,
and loudly passed away.
