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Robert W Service - TomRobert W Service - Tom
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That Tom was poor was sure a pity,      Such guts for learning had the lad; He took to Greek like babe to titty,      And he was mathematic mad. I loved to prime him up with knowledge,      A brighter lad I never knew; I dreamed that he would go to college      And there be honoured too.       But no! His Dad said, "Son, I need you      To keep the kettle on the boil; No longer can I clothe and feed you,      Buy study books and midnight oil. I carry on as best I`m able,      A humble tailor, as you know; And you must squat cross-legged a table      And learn to snip and sew." And that is what poor Tom is doing.      He bravely makes the best of it; But as he "fits" you he is knowing      That he himself is a misfit; And thinks as he fulfils his calling,      With patient heart yet deep distaste, Like clippings from his shears down-falling,                 —He, too, is Waste.
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