In the march of human minds
Down the weaving span of time,
Men have found a higher voice:
Word and image, meter, rhyme,
Weaving with a subtle beauty
Deepest thought, and highest hope;
Does our poet meet this duty?
One and all have answered, "Nope".
Do not let this witless folly
Make a mediocre slave.
Put this silly rhymester's folly
Back to work for Burma Shave.