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A poem by Harry Graham


Title:     Adam
Author: Harry Graham [More Titles by Graham]

In History he holds a place
Unique, unparalleled, sublime;
"The First of all the Human Race!"
Yes, that was Adam, all the time.
It didn't matter if he burst,
He simply had to get there first.

A simple Child of Nature he,
Whose life was primitive and rude;
His wants were few, his manners free,
All kinds of clothing he eschewed,--
He might be seen in any weather,
In what is called "the Altogether!"

The luxuries that we enjoy
He never had, so never missed;
Appliances that we employ
For saving work did not exist;
He would have found them useless too,
Not having any work to do.

He never wrote a business note;
He had no creditors to pay;
He was not pestered for his vote,
Not having one to give away;
And, living utterly alone,
He did not need a telephone.

The joys of indolence he knew,
In his remote and peaceful clime,
He did just what he wanted to,
Nor ever said he "hadn't time!"
(And this was natural becos
He had whatever time there was.)

His pulse was strong, his health was good,
He had no fads of meat or drink,
Of tonic waters, Breakfast Food,
Or Pills for Persons who are Pink;
No cloud of indigestion lay
Across the sunshine of his day.

And, when he went to bed each night,
He made his couch upon the soil;
The glow-worms gave him all his light,
(He hadn't heard of Standard Oil);--
At dawn he woke,--then slept again,
He never had to catch a train!

A happy, solitary life!
But soon he found it dull, I ween,
So thought that he would like a wife,--
When Eve appeared upon the scene.
* * *
And we will draw a kindly veil
Over the sequel to this tale.


Ye Bachelors, contented be
With what the future holds for you;
Pity the married man, for he
Has nothing to look forward to,--
To hunger for with bated breath!--
* * *
(Nothing, that is to say, but Death!)

[The end]
Harry Graham's poem: Adam