Classic Poem

Paul, pinked with dozing, stood from the chair wherein
Digestion was assisted after lunch—
Roast chine and gravies, pudding, swigs of punch,
His manhood being strong, and it no sin
To feed—Paul stretched and tucked his loose ends in
And singing till he had sung himself outside
He went to banter Abbott, or to ride;
Poor company Abbott kept his nearest of kin.

For everything that Paul was, Abbott was not.
His legs were two long straws, his face was chalk,
He would not ride, nor run, nor drowse, but walk
The field in thought more passionate than another's;
You hadn't believed that two such men were brothers;
Yet it was credited, the same sire begot.