The Athlete

The jeweled words of poets were to him
Rosetta stones too cryptic for slow wit;
His mind was native metal, crude and dim,
Without a flash of stars to temper it.

He visioned Shakespeare as an empty name.
Tunney and Tilden,—how his eyes would gleam!
Yet on the gridiron he won laureled fame,
Scoring a touchdown for a shattered team!
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