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Title: Familiarity Breeds Content
Author: Edmund Vance Cooke [
More Titles by Cooke]
I.
You sometimes think you'd like to be
John D.?
And not a man you know would dare
To josh you on your handsome hair,
Or say, "Hey, John, it's rather rude
To boost refined and jump on crude,
To help Chicago University,
Or bull the doctrine of--immersity."
II.
You wouldn't care to be the Pope,
I hope?
With not a chum to call your own,
To hale you up by telephone,
With, "Say, old man, I hope you're free
To-night. Bring Mrs. Pope to tea.
Let some one else lock up the pearly
Gateway to-night and get here early!"
III.
Perhaps you sometimes deem the Czar
A star?
With not a palm in all the land
To strike his fairly, hand to hand,
With not a man in all the pack
To fetch a hand against his back
And cry, "Well met, Old Nick, come out
And let us trot the kids about.
Tut, man! you needn't look so pale,
A red flag means an auction sale."
IV.
I'll bet even Shakespeare's name was "Will,"
Until
He was so dead that he was great,
For fame can only isolate.
And better than "The Immortal Bard"
Were "Hello, Bill," and "Howdy, pard!"
Would he have swapped his comrades' laughter
For all the praise of ages after?
[The end]
Edmund Vance Cooke's poem: Familiarity Breeds Content
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