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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408277" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Billy Vickers</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">No song is this of leaf and bird, <br>And gracious waters flowing; <br>I'm sick at heart, for I have heard <br>Big Billy Vickers &quot;blowing&quot;. <br>He'd never take a leading place <br>In chambers legislative: <br>This booby with the vacant face -- <br>This hoddy-doddy native! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Indeed, I'm forced to say aside, <br>To you, O reader, solely, <br>He only wants the horns and hide <br>To be a bullock wholly. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But, like all noodles, he is vain; <br>And when his tongue is wagging, <br>I feel inclined to copy Cain, <br>And &quot;drop&quot; him for his bragging. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">He, being Bush-bred, stands, of course, <br>Six feet his dirty socks in; <br>His lingo is confined to horse <br>And plough, and pig and oxen. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Two years ago he'd less to say <br>Within his little circuit; <br>But now he has, besides a dray, <br>A team of twelve to work it. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">No wonder is it that he feels <br>Inclined to clack and rattle <br>About his bullocks and his wheels -- <br>He owns a dozen cattle. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">In short, to be exact and blunt, <br>In his own estimation <br>He's &quot;out and out&quot; the head and front <br>Top-sawyer of creation! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">For, mark me, he can &quot;sit a buck&quot; <br>For hours and hours together; <br>And never horse has had the luck <br>To pitch him from the leather. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">If ever he should have a &quot;spill&quot; <br>Upon the grass or gravel, <br>Be sure of this, the saddle will <br>With Billy Vickers travel. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">At punching oxen you may guess <br>There's nothing out can &quot;camp&quot; him: <br>He has, in fact, the slouch and dress <br>Which bullock-driver stamp him. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I do not mean to give offence, <br>But I have vainly striven <br>To ferret out the difference <br>'Twixt driver and the driven. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of course, the statements herein made <br>In every other stanza <br>Are Billy's own; and I'm afraid <br>They're stark extravaganza. <br>I feel constrained to treat as trash <br>His noisy fiddle-faddle <br>About his doings with the lash, <br>His feats upon the saddle. <br>But grant he &quot;knows his way about&quot;, <br>Or grant that he is silly, <br>There cannot be the slightest doubt <br>Of Billy's faith in Billy. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of all the doings of the day <br>His ignorance is utter; <br>But he can quote the price of hay, <br>The current rate of butter. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">His notions of our leading men <br>Are mixed and misty very: <br>He knows a cochin-china hen -- <br>He never speaks of Berry. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">As you'll assume, he hasn't heard <br>Of Madame Patti's singing; <br>But I will stake my solemn word <br>He knows what maize is bringing. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Surrounded by majestic peaks, <br>By lordly mountain ranges, <br>Where highest voice of thunder speaks <br>His aspect never changes. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The grand Pacific there beyond <br>His dirty hut is glowing: <br>He only sees a big salt pond, <br>O'er which his grain is going. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The sea that covers half the sphere, <br>With all its stately speeches, <br>Is held by Bill to be a mere <br>Broad highway for his peaches. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Through Nature's splendid temples he <br>Plods, under mountains hoary; <br>But he has not the eyes to see <br>Their grandeur and their glory. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">A bullock in a biped's boot, <br>I iterate, is Billy! <br>He crushes with a careless foot <br>The touching water-lily. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I've said enough -- I'll let him go! <br>If he could read these verses, <br>He'd pepper me for hours, I know, <br>With his peculiar curses. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But this is sure, he'll never change <br>His manners loud and flashy, <br>Nor learn with neatness to arrange <br>His clothing, cheap and trashy. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Like other louts, he'll jog along, <br>And swig at shanty liquors, <br>And chew and spit. Here ends the song <br>Of Mr. Billy Vickers.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Kendall">Henry Kendall</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408277" data-title="Billy Vickers de Henry Kendall" data-description="No song is this of leaf and bird, 
And gracious waters flowing; 
I'm sick at heart, for I have heard 
Big Billy Vickers &quot;blowing&quot;. 
He'd never take a leading place 
In chambers legislative: 
This booby with the vacant face -- 
This hoddy..."></div>
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