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This poem is in very large type so maybe DAVE will read it. When you have to use a magnifying glass because you are almost blind, it takes all the fun out of reading. It doesn't help that SOME people won't figure out how to make text larger on browsers!

This poem is from Slams of Life by J.P McEvoy illustrated by Frank White; P. F. Volland Company, Chicago, USA; 1919; p. 13.



J. P.  McEvoy

"Observe my bean," the Stranger said,

"You have," said I, "a noble head,"

"Within that dome," the Stranger cried,

"Are countless gems of lambent lore,

A flock of wisdom, true and tried,

A mine of wit, a sapient store.

"Behind my altitudinous brow

A corrugated thinker sits.

It's in a state of coma now,

But gosh, it throws sagacious fits!

For it is crammed with all the dope

Of ev'ry book on ev'ry shelf.

You get my modest view, I hope?

I hate to talk about myself.

"I know more art than any Taine,

More Rome than Gibbon, Greece than Grote,

More law than old Sir Henry Maine,

More poetry than any pote;

I've delved as deep as Darwin did,

Beside me Euclid is a sham, and

Socrates a weanling kid,

I know more words than Percy Hammond!"

"From which remarks I glean," said I,

"You are a shrewd and wise gazook,

A keen and perspicacious guy,

A shining light, a gumptious gook."

"You're right," he sighed. "My wondrous brain

Is hep indeed to all the ropes,

But still my heart is full of pain:

I cannot pick good cantaloupes."


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