Dante Gabriel Rosetti, who loved wombats dearly it seems, also apparently produced this quatrain when forced away from his pet and onto a family vacation:

“Oh how the family affections combat
Within this heart, and each hour flings a bomb at
My burning soul! Neither from owl nor from bat
Can peace be gained until I clasp my wombat.”

(From William Michael Rossetti’s “Family Letters, with a Memoir” again sent to me by a…hmm. “Fan” sounds like I’m making assumptions, and “alert reader” sounds like I’m plagerizing Dave Barry. Anybody got a good, but pithier phrase for “chance-met-through-webcomics acquaintences who know I like wombats and thus send me charming wombat stuff randomly via e-mail?”)

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