I deny that climate ever changes;
From cold to hot it ever does hold true.
Its up and down it never re-arranges;
Its calm and fierce, its gray skies and its blue.

Most constant are the warming, cooling breezes.
More constant is the desert—very hot.
The icy blast of winter always freezes,
And springtime’s blossoms always seem to pop.

I deny that climate ever varies;
From dawn to noon the temps do upward rise,
Except when northern winds sweep down like fairies
To throw their stinging snowflakes in our eyes.

‘Twas noted long ago that nothing changes:
If man would have the truth, he must love facts,
Must disregard the whims of phony sages,
And damn all evil thugs for evil acts.