Nothing is glummer Than a cold in the summer. A summer cold Is to have and to hold. A cough in the fall Is nothing at all, A winter snuffle Is lost in the shuffle, And April sneezes Put leaves on the treeses, But a summer cold Is to have and to hold. Through golf course and beach Slip beyond your reach, By a fate grotesque You can get to your desk, And there is no rescue From this germ grotesque. You can feel it coming In your nasal plumbing, But there is no plumber For a cold in the summer. Nostrilly, tonsilly, It prowls irresponsilly; In your personal firmament Its abode is permanent. Oh, would it were curable Rather than durable; Were it Goering's or Himmler's, Or somebody simlar's! O Laval were it thine! But it isn't, it's mine. A summer cold Is to have and to hold.
~Ogden Nash (taken from the collection Good Intentions 1942)