Classic Poem

A Corpuscle began to fight
Absurdly with a Phagocyte:
" Indeed, " he said, " I'm round and red,
And keep a man from falling dead.
I give him brains and nerve and muscle, "
Remarked the little red Corpuscle.
The Phagocyte: " And I am white,
And but for me you'd perish quite;
I go a-floating round the serum,
And when I spy the bugs I queer 'em;
You owe your work, your freedom, joy
To me, the Phagocyte, my boy. "
But then a stalwart Streptococcus —
Whose sterner functions needn't shock us —
Seeing his foe was occupied
With learned questions on the side,
Swooped down and bit him till he died.
And then the red Corpuscle cried:
" Nature appoints, as well she should,
To each his task — and each is good;
Even though the Streptococcus be
At last the best of all the three. "

MORAL

The wretched Corpuscle has stated
The moral — which, if syndicated
And widely pondered, might prevent
Our present social discontent.