An Ode In Time of Inauguration
But stay! or ever that I start to sing,
Or e'er I loose my fine poetic forces,
I ought, I think, to do the decent thing,
Ti Wit: give credit to my many sources:
Barnes's "Brief History of the U.S.A.,"
Bryce, Ridpath, Scudder, Fiske, J.B. McMaster,
A book of odes, a Webster, a Roget--
The bibliography of this poetaster. O Millard Fillmore! when a man refers
To thee, what direful, awful thing occurs?
Though in name itself thy name have nought of wit,
Yet--and this doth confound me to admit
When I do hear it, I do smile; nay, more--
I laugh, I scream, I cachinnate, I roar
As Wearied Business Men do shake with glee
At mimes that say "Dubuque" or "Kankakee";
As basement-brows that laugh at New Rochelle;
As lackwits laugh when actors mention Hell.
Perhaps--it may be so--I am not sure--
Perhaps it is that thou wast so obscure,
And that one seldom hears a single word of thee;
I know a lot of girls that never heard of thee.
Hence did I smile, perhaps. . . . How very near
The careless laughing to the thoughtful tear!
O Fillmore, let me sheathe my mocking pen.
God rest thee! I'll not laugh at thee again!