Verse > Anthologies > Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. > An American Anthology, 1787–1900
Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908).  An American Anthology, 1787–1900.  1900.
71. Ode to Fortune
By Halleck and Drake
FAIR lady with the bandaged eye!
  I ’ll pardon all thy scurvy tricks,
So thou wilt cut me, and deny
  Alike thy kisses and thy kicks:
I ’m quite contented as I am,        5
  Have cash to keep my duns at bay,
Can choose between beefsteaks and ham,
  And drink Madeira every day.
My station is the middle rank,
  My fortune—just a competence—        10
Ten thousand in the Franklin Bank,
  And twenty in the six per cents;
No amorous chains my heart enthrall,
  I neither borrow, lend, nor sell;
Fearless I roam the City Hall,        15
  And bite my thumb at Sheriff Bell.
The horse that twice a week I ride
  At Mother Dawson’s eats his fill;
My books at Goodrich’s abide,
  My country-seat is Weehawk hill;        20
My morning lounge is Eastburn’s shop,
  At Poppleton’s I take my lunch,
Niblo prepares my mutton-chop,
  And Jennings makes my whiskey-punch.
When Merry, I the hours amuse        25
  By squibbing Bucktails, Guards, and Balls,
And when I ’m troubled with the blues
  Damn Clinton and abuse canals:
Then, Fortune, since I ask no prize,
  At least preserve me from thy frown!        30
The man who don’t attempt to rise
  ’T were cruelty to tumble down.

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