Poetry of Kansas
 

The Pessimist

He watches every darkling cloud
    Lurid with lightning's gleaming,
He grumbles at the sun because
    It does so little shining.
But never sees the sunset's glow,
    Or stars in splendor beaming;
Each day is drearier than the last,
    And calls for more repining;
He grumbles at the sun because
    It does so little shining.
 
He hears the croaking of the frogs,
    In stagnant lake or river ;
The echo of their doleful tones
    Rings in his ears forever ;
When sing the birds his aural drum
    Seems muffled o'er with cotton,
And should it vibrate with one note,
    Tis soon, alas, forgotten.
 
The weeds all grow along his path,
    And never rose or lily ;
To search for lucky clover leaves
    Strikes him as "blooming silly."
He sees no majesty in trees,
    No beauty in the grasses ;
The last make only provender
    For oxen, sheep and asses.
 
He thinks that Shylocks rule mankind,
    And poor men have no chances;
That money plays the violin,
    While labor only dances.
No more have people any rights--
    Not even to petition
And all are straightway downward bent
    To bow-wows and demnition.
 
He says the world is all awry,
    And doomed to dire disaster
To Hades has been moving fast,
    And now is moving faster ;
That times are sadly out of joint,
    And all things topsy-turvy,

__J. M. Cavaness.

Jayhawker Juleps
J. M. Cavaness
(Chanute: Tribune Pub. Co. 1913)
Page 19

 
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June 26, 2004 / John & Susan Howell / Wichita, Kansas / howell@kotn.org

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