Classic Poem

Dirk gleams and twists sarcastic lips about
An epigram he's never uttered yet —
A mordant word! Edg'd phrase none might forget,
A spoken knife, did he but flash it out!
We wait for it! Applaud, almost, or shout,
Or wince beforehand, at that epithet: —
It never comes. But fifty men I've met
Say Dirk is keen. 'Twere heresy to doubt!

Dirk glinted thus on me ten years or more
Ere yet he uttered, mantling with conceit,
His jest ... poor ass! ... I glowered upon the floor,
Ashamed for him; I stared down at my feet:
Then laughed, for Dirk's soul twinkled in his eyes,
Telling his world, " I am a wit, and wise! "