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 | The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") |  |
OPTIMUS BROWN.
It strikes me this morning, friend Pessimus Green,
By your railing at mankind you're suffering with spleen;
The men, by your saying, are nothing but knaves,
The women, to fashion and folly are slaves;
One set are the biters, the others the bit,
And both are the mark of your cynical wit;
But banish a moment that sneer and that frown,
While I tell you the story of Optimus Brown.
By your railing at mankind you're suffering with spleen;
The men, by your saying, are nothing but knaves,
The women, to fashion and folly are slaves;
One set are the biters, the others the bit,
And both are the mark of your cynical wit;
But banish a moment that sneer and that frown,
While I tell you the story of Optimus Brown.
This Optimus Brown, on a hot summer day,
I met in the street in his clothing of grey,
And while mopping his forehead, he said this to me—
“Quite genial weather! I like it, d'ye see?
It gives one such pleasure without and within;
It quickens the pulses, relaxes the skin,
Drives away from the mind every feeling of woe,
And makes both the plants and the animals grow.”
I met in the street in his clothing of grey,
And while mopping his forehead, he said this to me—
“Quite genial weather! I like it, d'ye see?
It gives one such pleasure without and within;
It quickens the pulses, relaxes the skin,
Drives away from the mind every feeling of woe,
And makes both the plants and the animals grow.”
When next I encountered this Brown in the street,
He was merrily trudging with pattering feet,
But, stopping at sight of me, gleefully said—
“A day like to-day might awaken the dead.
This weather of autumn with dim, misty haze
Throws a veil of delight o'er the thorniest ways,
There isn't a season compares with the Fall;
And the month of November surpasses them all.”
He was merrily trudging with pattering feet,
But, stopping at sight of me, gleefully said—
“A day like to-day might awaken the dead.
This weather of autumn with dim, misty haze
Throws a veil of delight o'er the thorniest ways,
There isn't a season compares with the Fall;
And the month of November surpasses them all.”
358
Three months after that, in the coldest of weather,
Brown said, as we shivered in walking together,
With “ten below zero” keen piercing us through—
“I admire such fine weather as this is, don't you?
It better than tonics or stimulants serves
To brace up the body and strengthen the nerves;
It gives as much vigor as victuals and drink;
And we'll have a fine ice-crop this winter, I think.”
Brown said, as we shivered in walking together,
With “ten below zero” keen piercing us through—
“I admire such fine weather as this is, don't you?
It better than tonics or stimulants serves
To brace up the body and strengthen the nerves;
It gives as much vigor as victuals and drink;
And we'll have a fine ice-crop this winter, I think.”
The last time I ran against Optimus Brown
The rain through his tattered umbrella came down,
And poured down his neck like the stream from a pump;
But he said—“How this weather'll make the plants jump!
The country around was in need of such showers
To forward the crops and to blossom the flowers;
And this moisture refreshes the body and brain—
There's nothing compares with a soft April rain!”
The rain through his tattered umbrella came down,
And poured down his neck like the stream from a pump;
But he said—“How this weather'll make the plants jump!
The country around was in need of such showers
To forward the crops and to blossom the flowers;
And this moisture refreshes the body and brain—
There's nothing compares with a soft April rain!”
And Optimus treated his troubles the same,
And took at its best all misfortunes that came;
His friends were all true, and his foes—if he had 'em—
Were wayward connections, his kinsfolk through Adam,
Who would not wrong him, their relation, and hence
No cause to resent where he took no offense;
And, if clouds ever darkened his pathway at night,
He patiently waited for morning and light.
And took at its best all misfortunes that came;
His friends were all true, and his foes—if he had 'em—
Were wayward connections, his kinsfolk through Adam,
Who would not wrong him, their relation, and hence
No cause to resent where he took no offense;
And, if clouds ever darkened his pathway at night,
He patiently waited for morning and light.
You may smile at old Optimus—laugh, if you please—
Who took each mishap when it came at its ease,
Regarded whatever occurred as the best,
And with whatever happened, believed he was blest;
Yet you'd better think much as Optimus thought,
And bring from each sorrow such joy as he brought,
Look at fortune as friend if she smile, or she frown,
And take the world easy like Optimus Brown.
Who took each mishap when it came at its ease,
Regarded whatever occurred as the best,
And with whatever happened, believed he was blest;
Yet you'd better think much as Optimus thought,
And bring from each sorrow such joy as he brought,
Look at fortune as friend if she smile, or she frown,
And take the world easy like Optimus Brown.
| The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | |