Classic Poem

A TOAST to them the sage contemn,
As only fit for pelf:
Here's to the State of people great
That never knew itself!
We never knew our statesmen true,
Our quorums and our twelves,
Our senators and congressmen—
They never knew themselves.

The traveled prig whose soul was big—
That patronizing elf—
The college sprig, saw through his wig
The State knew not itself.
We humble fools, a million schools
Made of us reading elves;
We sat on stools, we plied our tools,
We never knew ourselves.

We had no lords, we wore no swords,
Not Ghiblin nor yet Guelf,
Our parent fount of no account
We never knew ourself;
More wooden we in company
Than our good axes' helves,
We read our fate not to be great
And never knew ourselves.

Yet still we grew, as simples do,
And wealth was on our shelf;
From sea to sea all folks were free,—
Our neighbor was ourself.
“See yonder lout! He comes not out,
He dickers and he delves;
Let's smite his hip, blow up his ship!”—
They never knew ourselves.

To farthest world our shots are hurled—
Old Spain has dug her delf—
Hapsburgers great! Beware the state
That never knew itself!
Lest if we quit our humble wit—
The dry goods on our shelves—
All hell may feel our home-made steel
And we may know ourselves!