ou are old, ‘Father World,’” cried the Graduate,
“But for one of your age and size,
I feel it is only my duty to state
You are not uncommonly wise.”
ou are old, ‘Father World,’” cried the Graduate,
“But for one of your age and size,
I feel it is only my duty to state
You are not uncommonly wise.”
ou are old, ‘Father World,’” cried the Graduate,
“But for one of your age and size,
I feel it is only my duty to state
You are not uncommonly wise.”
“I am aged,” replied Father World, “it is true.
And not very wise I agree.
Do you think tho’ it’s fair for a scholar like you
To abuse an old fossil like me?”
Said the youth, “I refer not to college degrees,
Nor dates that one crams in his skull,
I complain not because you are lacking in these,
But because you’re so awfully dull!
“I have studied you now I should think more or less
For twenty-one years, and I know
You right through and through, and I can but confess
You are really confoundedly slow.”
Said the world, “My dear sir, you are right, there’s no crime
Like dullness—henceforth I will try
To be clever—forgive me! I’m taking your time,
Perhaps we’ll meet later! Good-bye!”
LATER.
“You are cold, Father World, and harden’d forsooth,”
Cried the man, “and exceeding wise,
And for any offensive remarks of my youth
I beg to apologize.”
“Phyllis, if I could I’d paint you
As I see you sitting there,
You distracting little saint, you,
With your aureole of hair.
If I only were an artist,
And such glances could be caught,
You should have the very smartest
Picture frame that can be bought!
“Phyllis, since I can’t depict your
Charms, or give you aught but fame,
Will you be yourself the picture?
Will you let me be the frame?
Whose protecting clasp may bind you
Always—”
“Nay,” cried Phyllis; “hold,
Or you’ll force me to remind you
Paintings must be framed with gold!”