Written by
Robert William Service |
When I was small the Lord appeared
Unto my mental eye
A gentle giant with a beard
Who homed up in the sky.
But soon that vasty vision blurred,
And faded in the end,
Till God is just another word
I cannot comprehend.
I envy those of simple faith
Who bend the votive knee;
Who do not doubt divinely death
Will set their spirits free.
Oh could I be like you and you,
Sweet souls who scan this line,
And by dim altar worship too
A Deity Divine!
Alas! Mid passions that appal
I ask with bitter woe
Is God responsible for all
Our horror here below?
He made the hero and the saint,
But did He also make
The cannibal in battle paint,
The shark and rattlesnake?
If I believe in God I should
Believe in Satan too;
The one the source of all our good,
The other of our rue . . .
Oh could I second childhood gain!
For then it might be, I
Once more would see that vision plain,--
Fond Father in the sky.
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Written by
Ogden Nash |
"Beep-beep.
BANKERS TRUST AUTOMOBILE LOAN
You'll find a banker at Bankers Trust"
Advertisement in N.Y. Times
When comes my second childhood,
As to all men it must,
I want to be a banker
Like the banker at Bankers Trust.
I wouldn't ask to be president
Or even assistant veep,
I'd only ask for a kiddie car
And permission to go beep-beep.
The banker at Chase Manhattan,
He bids a polite Good-day;
The banker at Immigrant Savings
Cries Scusi! and Olé!
But I'd be a sleek Ferrari
Or perhaps a joggly jeep,
And scooting around at Bankers Trust,
Beep-beep, I'd go, beep-beep.
The trolley car used to say clang-clang
And the choo-choo said toot-toot,
But the beep of the banker at Bankers Trust
Is every bit as cute.
Miaow, says the cuddly kitten,
Baa, says the woolly sheep,
Oink, says the piggy-wiggy,
And the banker says beep-beep.
So I want to play at Bankers Trust
Like a hippety-hoppety bunny,
And best of all, oh best of all,
With really truly money.
Now grown-ups dear, it's nightie-night
Until my dream comes true,
And I bid you a happy boop-a-doop
And a big beep-beep adieu.
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Written by
Robert William Service |
When I go on my morning walk,
Because I'm mild,
If I be in the mood to talk
I choose a child.
I'd rather prattle with a lass
Of tender age
Than converse in the high-brow class
With college sage.
I love the touch of silken hand
That softly clings;
In old of age I understand
Life's little things.
I love the lisp of tiny tongue
And trusting eyes;
These are the joys that keep me young
As daylight dies.
For as to second childhood I
Draw gently near,
With happy heart I see the why
Children are dear.
So wise Professor, go your way,--
I am beguiled
To wistful loving by the gay
Laugh of a child.
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Written by
Robert William Service |
Some deem I'm gentle, some I'm kind:
It may be so,--I cannot say.
I know I have a simple mind
And see things in a simple way;
And like a child I love to play.
I love to toy with pretty words
And syllable them into rhyme;
To make them sing like sunny birds
In happy droves with silver chime,
In dulcet groves in summer time.
I pray, with hair more white than grey,
And second childhood coming on,
That yet with wonderment I may
See life as in its lucent dawn,
And be by beauty so beguiled
I'll sing as sings a child.
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