Classic Poem

The little boom they said was vain
Will strike them now as vainer,
Since you have got aboard the train
And started o'er the cactus plain,
O frail and fickle Dana!

For when you reach the marble halls
Of pagan Montezuma,
What ear will heed my piteous calls
Amid the havoc that appalls
A boom without a boomer?

Perhaps some charm of that proud place
Will swerve you from your duty—
Will tempt you to forget my face,
My artless ways and simple grace,
My modest Hoosier beauty.

If so it be, my face will haunt
Your soul where'er you linger;
Within your ears I 'll breath a taunt,
Within your eyes I 'll ever flaunt
My pale and bony finger.

Like amorous Dido am I left
To torturesome reflection—
Deceived, cajoled, betrayed, bereft,
My trusting heart by anguish cleft—
Though not without OBJECTION .