I never made a prohibition speech,|
Nor eulogized thee as a proper beverage;
But there is one conclusion which I reach:
That there are spheres in which thou hast the leverage.
And though I don't expect to use thee freely,
I'll speak no more of thee with contumely.
Although for food thou art not well designed,
More due, perhaps, to thy extreme fluidity;
And though thou dost at times drown human kind,
And wipe out towns with unforeseen rapidity;
And though thou lackest that fine beady flavor
Which if thou hadst would give thee much more favor:
Still, thou dost make the wheat and corn crops grow,
While then the people seem content with amity,
And no old played-out politicians go
Around and sound the hew-gag of calamity:
And all the people seem to have some reason;
And all the crops somehow arrive in season.
I've almost made my mind up that I'll try
And get accustomed to thy potability;
Since thou as rain descending from the sky
Dost give us such political tranquility,
For every time thou comest as a soaker
Thou endest all there is of some old croaker.