I FOR one who is volitient That matters move along, It's fine to be efficient In labour or in song. II Avoid all kinds of effort, Shun every stress and strain. Don't put a needless burden Upon your heart and brain. III Now, in the opening stanza Which started rather fine, I made the rhymes alternate— Or every other line. IV ("Which started" is a mouthful And difficult to say. I might have made it smoother By working half a day.) V (Nor is the word alTERnate; I find, when I consult The dictionary, accent Is on th' antepenult). VI But if I stopped to bother With little things like this, The wear upon my engine Would make it skip, or miss. VII They tell me that the "Elegy" Composed by Thomas Gray Took seven years to finish, At seven hours a day. VIII How absolutely sinful To waste that precious time In polishing and pruning The roughnesses of rhyme! IX At eight nineteen this evening As true as I'm alive, I wrote that opening stanza— Now it's eight twenty-five. X Efficiency! That does it! Efficiency's the word! It makes you feel that labour Is utterly absurd. XI Observe the Roman numerals; Although they are no use, I find them, altogether, Efficient as the deuce. XII Observe the 9-point Old Style— A clear and lovely face. I find it efficacious Annihilating space. XIII I point with prideful finger To this efficient rhyme Composed with hardly any Expenditure of time. XIV Composed with absolutely No waste of heart or brain, No prodigal rhythmatics, No lyric legerdemain. XV Having conserved my forces, And husbanded my art, I'm just as fresh this minute As I was at the start. XVI I waste no "punch," no climax, For it would be a crime To put a timely wallop In an efficient rhyme. XVII Here's my efficient poem. You think it's bad? You do? Like most efficient persons, I never thought of you. |