When the yuppie in his sportscar merges to the passing lane,
He wonders if the driver up in front could have a brain.
But the fender of her SUV will make his courage fail,
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.
When the yuppie in his sportscar merges to the passing lane,
He wonders if the driver up in front could have a brain.
But the fender of her SUV will make his courage fail,
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.
He, with so much left to do,
Such a gallant race to run,
What concern had he with you,
Silent Keeper of things done?
Tell us not that, wise and young,
Elsewhere he lives out his plan.
Our speech was sweetest to his tongue,
And his great gift was to be man.
Long and long shall we remember,
In our breasts his grave be made.
It shall never be December
Where so warm a heart is laid,
But in our saddest selves a sweet voice sing,
Recalling him, and Spring.
"On Active Service"
By Edith Wharton