| |
| OLD GRIMES is dead; that good old man | |
| We never shall see more: | |
| He used to wear a long, black coat, | |
| All buttoned down before. | |
| |
| His heart was open as the day, | 5 |
| His feelings all were true; | |
| His hair was some inclined to gray— | |
| He wore it in a queue. | |
| |
| Whene’er he heard the voice of pain, | |
| His breast with pity burn’d; | 10 |
| The large, round head upon his cane | |
| From ivory was turn’d. | |
| |
| Kind words he ever had from all; | |
| He knew no base design: | |
| His eyes were dark and rather small, | 15 |
| His nose was aquiline. | |
| |
| He lived at peace with all mankind, | |
| In friendship he was true: | |
| His coat had pocket-holes behind, | |
| His pantaloons were blue. | 20 |
| |
| Unharm’d, the sin which earth pollutes | |
| He passed securely o’er, | |
| And never wore a pair of boots | |
| For thirty years or more. | |
| |
| But good old Grimes is now at rest, | 25 |
| Nor fears misfortune’s frown: | |
| He wore a double-breasted vest— | |
| The stripes ran up and down. | |
| |
| He modest merit sought to find, | |
| And pay it its desert: | 30 |
| He had no malice in his mind, | |
| No ruffles on his shirt. | |
| |
| His neighbors he did not abuse— | |
| Was sociable and gay: | |
| He wore large buckles on his shoes | 35 |
| And changed them every day. | |
| |
| His knowledge, hid from public gaze, | |
| He did not bring to view, | |
| Nor made a noise, town-meeting days, | |
| As many people do. | 40 |
| |
| His worldly goods he never threw | |
| In trust to fortune’s chances, | |
| But lived (as all his brothers do) | |
| In easy circumstances. | |
| |
| Thus undisturb’d by anxious cares, | 45 |
| His peaceful moments ran; | |
| And everybody said he was | |
| A fine old gentleman. | |
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