Classic Poem

I've travelled now from coast to coast —
I came back only yesterday —
I've been from Banff to Painted Post
From Harrisburgh to Monterey,
From Cedarhurst to San Jose,
From Santa Cruz to Valley Forge —
And yet, on all my witless way,
I've never called a waiter " George. "

I toured the country, same as most
Who pilgrimage in quest of play.
I paid two bits for buttered toast,
And ninety cents for pêche gelee .
I was a hick, the same as they
Who come from Huntington or Norge;
But though I seemed replete with hay,
I never called a waiter " George. "

I never was a bard to boast,
I never was a lad to bray;
But do I not deserve a " Pros't! " ,
A cross, a wreath of laurel-spray,
For that, in diner and cafe,
At jitney meal, Lucullan org.
Y, dinner, luncheon, dejeuner ,
I never called a waiter " George " ?

L'ENVOI

Cast me, O Prince, in Hudson Bay,
Shoot me across the Royal Gorge,
But O remember, ere you slay,
I never called a waiter " George. "