Classic Poem

Said the Goddess of Fame to the pedestalled shade
Of Farragut looming on high:
" Move over a bit on your pedestal, man,
For a twin-born of Fame draweth nigh;
Move over a bit, give him room at your side,
A trifle of space you must spare
For the first of the sons of the sea of our day,
So make room for Dewey up there. "

" And who is this Dewey? " the gray shade replies.
" He is one of your sailors, " said Fame;
" And the sea-winds that blow on both sides of the world
Are loud with the sound of his name.
Without losing a ship, or a gun, or a man,
Spain's navy he sunk in the sea. "
Said Farragut then to the new son of Fame:
" Approach, and come up here with me! "