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Robert W Service - At The Parade
Work rating: Medium

I cannot flap a flag
          Or beat a drum;
Behind the mob I lag
          With larynx dumb;
Alas! I fear I`m not
          A Patriot.

With acrid eyes I see
          The soul of things;
And equal unto me
          Are cooks and kings;
I would not cross the street
          A duke to meet.

Oh curse me for a fool
          To be so proud;
To stand so still and cool
          Amid the crowd.
For President or Peer
          God, let me cheer!

But no, despite the glee
          My heart is cold;
I think that it may be
          Because I`m old;
I`m dumb where millions yell . . .
          Oh what the hell!
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