Classic Poem

Luckless, — best of fellows! — clearly
Fate with thee strange antics played;
Many a time he would have nearly,
If not quite, his fortune made;
One blest star upon another
O'er his cradle would have smiled,
But one hour too late his mother
Gave the world this luckless child.

Martial fame, in song and story,
Early would his deeds have crowned;
None so emulous of glory
Was in all the army found; —
Only when, like waves of ocean,
To the stormy shock they rolled,
Hush! through all the wild commotion,
See the flag of peace unfold.

Luckless, on the eve of marriage,
Now at length his luck descries;
Lo! a wealthier suitor's carriage
Bears away his lovely prize!
Yet had he, thus rudely plundered,
In the widow still been blest,
Had not death untimely blundered,
Stumbling o'er the miser's chest.

Rich had Luckless been full surely
With a new world's wealth on deck,
But a tempest prematurely
Left his ship in port a wreck.
He himself, as Crusoe lucky,
Had already climbed the bank,
When, by some mad billow struck, he
Lost his hold, and slipped, and sank.

Straight to heaven, without a question,
Would his soul have flown that day,
But a stupid devil just then
Must needs dart across his way.
Devil thought it was the very
Soul that he must catch, and so
By the throat, this imp so merry,
Grabbing Luckless, runs; — when, lo!

One good angel, for a wonder,
Reached a helping hand this once,
Back to hell, with bolt of thunder,
Hurled that black and blundering dunce;
Spreading then his shiny pinions,
Through the heavens poor Luckless bore
Far beyond mad Luck's dominions,
Where the stars hold sway no more.