Poem: The Proud Genius by The Fugitive Scribbler

There is a splendid genius to whom I bow the knee;
His name upon the scroll of Fame is writ for all to see;
I nodded in a nervous way to him the other morn,
            But --
He crushed me to the pavement with a look of sober scorn!

That proud and splendid genius I do not care to meet
When, chin in air and shoulders braced, he marches down the street;
Nor does it greatly cheer me in deep dejection sunk
            That --
He sometimes condescends to borrow thrippence when he's drunk!

First published in The Bulletin, 8 August 1912

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This page contains a single entry by Perry Middlemiss published on December 11, 2005 10:47 AM.

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