These verses are from a poem by John Kendrick Bangs in _The
Century_:
He’d never heard of Phidias,
He’d never heard of Byron;
His tastes were not fastidious,
His soul was not aspirin’:
But he could tell you what the birds were whisp’ring in the trees,
And he could find sweet music in the sounding of the seas,
And he could joy in wintry snows,
And summer’s sunny weather,
And tell you all the names of those
Who frolic in the heather.
He nothing knew of sciences,
Of art, or eke of letters;
Nor of those strange appliances
That fill the world with debtors:
But happiness he knew right well; he knew from A to Z
The art of filling life with song, and others’ souls with glee;
And he could joy in day and night,
Heart full of pure thanksgiving--
I am not sure he was not right
In using life for living.
(1819)