Classic Poem

This is a portrait. Here one can
Descry those purely human features
Whereby, since first the world began,
Man has with ease distinguished Man
From humbler fellow-creatures
And seldom, whatsoe'er his shape,
Mistaken him for Dog or Ape.

Inspect this subject well, and note
The whiskers centrally divided,
The silken stock about his throat,
The loose but elegant frock-coat,
The boots (elastic-sided),
And you'll at once remark: " Ah, ha!
" This must, of course, be Grandpapa!"

'Tis he, of feudal types the last,
By all his peers revered, respected;
His lines in pleasant places cast
Where churls saluted as he pass'd
And maidens genuflected,
And, if he chanced to meet the Vicar,
The latter's pulse would beat the quicker.

As yet upon his vast estates
No labour troubles had arisen;
There were no beggars at his gates —
He and his brother-magistrates
Had sent them all to prison,
Knowing 'twas wiser to avoid
Encouraging the Unemployed.

Though tender-hearted, I declare,
And often moved to righteous rages
When told that his own workmen were
Reduced to vegetarian fare
By their starvation wages,
Such gloomy topics he'd dismiss —
He knew there was no cure for this.

Suppose some tenant, old and bent,
By age or penury afflicted,
Failed to produce his quarter's rent,
What agony of mind it meant
To have the man evicted!
To watch each bankrupt friend depart
Would nearly break poor Grandpa's heart.

In politics it was his rule
To be broadminded but despotic;
In argument he kept quite cool,
Knowing a man to be a fool
And most unpatriotic
Who differed from the views that he
Had cherished from the age of three.

I well remember, as a child,
How much his moods perplexed and awed me;
At times irate, at others mild,
Alternately he frowned and smiled,
Would censure or applaud me,
And either pat me on the head
Or send me screaming off to bed.

Once I recall — a sad affair —
When, as a child of years still tender,
I chanced to sit in his armchair,
He seized me roughly by the hair
And flung me in the fender.
He had such quaint impulsive ways;
I didn't sit again for days.

Dear Grandpapa — I see him yet,
My friend, philosopher and guide, too,
A personality, once met,
One could not possibly forget,
Though lots of people tried to —
Founder of a distinguished line,
And worthy ancestor of mine!