Behold
him sitting at his desk
Constructing funny jokes
To
send out in the sober world
To tickle sober folks.
He
has a twinkle in his eye,
Gloom beneath his ban;
He
is the champion of mirth
The daily funny man.
No
troubles cloud his placid brow,
He laughs all care away;
The
things that badger other souls
To him are merely play.
To
take his pen and puncture gloom
Becomes his daily plan;
For
tragedy he has no room,
The daily funny man.
His
smile would melt all sorrow down,
His heart would warm the earth;
And
so a halo of good cheer
Hangs round the man of mirth.
But
this is not a picture true,
Do justice no one can;
It
is the idea people have
About the funny man!
April
12, ‘13
For
Sat. Apr. 19
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