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C J Dennis - Growing Pains
Work rating: Low

Behold the undergraduate --
   A most amusing fellow
In all his jesting up-to-date --
His sense of humor is so great,
   His modern wit so mellow,
That no quip serves him lest it be
Rich in originality.

Assured of overwhelming odds,
   Seizing the freshmen`s persons,
Indelibly he daubs these clods,
To waken mirth in men and gods.
   (Saving a few McPhersons
And other members of their race
Who have of humor, not a trace.)

The softier sort of joke that serves
   Dull age -- the quaint or quizzical --
Gains his contempt, as it deserves;
Mere wordy wit gets on his nerves;
   His jokes are ever physical,
And richer qualities attain
The more they hold of cosmic pain.

To torture victims till they squeal
   Is mirthfully effectual;
Humor lacks pith unless these feel
Fierce torments: wit has no appeal
   That`s solely intellectual.
The quirk, the paradox outworn,
The epigram but earn his scorn.

No milder jest may give him joy --
   Strange, adolescent creature,
Suspended `twixt the man and boy --
No rag`s worth while lest it employ
   Some quaintly painful feature;
But jokes, that moved the stone-age man
To shrieks of mirth, he`ll gladly plan.

Behold the undergraduate
   And pity him a little,
Remembering `twas once our fate
To linger in that loutish state
   That holds of grace no tittle,
But comes alike to boy and pup --
The penalty of growing up.
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