Classic Poem

Mary had a little lamb,
Down in Ohio state,
And, ere it grew to be a ram,
Most dismal was its fate.

Its fleece was long and white and full,
And Mary loved to shear
Her lamb for the amount of wool
It brought her twice a year.

But once, upon a summer's day,
She learned, to her dejection,
Her wool investment did n't pay—
And so she craved protection.

And then, with many a pleading word
And copious flow of tears,
She flew to genial Mr. Hurd
To set at rest her fears.

But Mr. Hurd in scorn did hold
Poor Mary and her kid,
And when their tale of woe was told
No kindly act he did.

In vain for help the maiden cried
Upon her bended knees.
“No tariff, girl,” the man replied;
“Go, serve your lamb with peas!”

So Mary slew her little lamb—
As might have been expected,
For little lambs are n't worth a d—
When they are not protected.