MARK TWAIN.
Jester - sage - man! These are the titles, three,
We grant you in pre-eminent degree.
First to awake the drowsy ear of mirth
With joyous call, a-rippling around earth;
Then dropping in the cup of human tears
A pearl of wisdom - straightway hope appears!
Then last and best to break the chilling ice
Of cold convention, piteous pride's device,
Warming the heart of human brotherhood -
For these, a precious trinity of good,
For these our thanks, and far beyond, above,
Gold, laurel, grant we you the wreath of love.
So write I heedless, but forgive me, pray,
You've worn that priceless wreath for many a day!
JAMES ERNEST CALDWELL.
