Written February 2, 1913 at age 18

Note - I feel the need to add that this was written over a hundred years ago back when "gay" was still a synonym for happy.

The time had come when I must ask

Of you a question brief.

If you could know my awful task,

To me 'twere a relief.

O, the contemplation of it

Has caused many a sleepless night:

I simply can't decide it;

Please free me from this plight.

I have doubted, I have wondered

In a serious sort of way.

I have thought that I had blundered

When before I did not say

That the subject keeps a ringing

In its never-ceasing tune.

It confronts me from my rising,

Till the setting of the moon.

I've a stealing admiration

For the joys I would behold,

If you give the right decision

When I had the story told.

In my office, in my study,

In the church, or at the game;

I can never get quite from it,

'Cause it tags me just the same.

I've been wishing, I've been hoping

That the trial were all o'er;

But, unless you answer rightly,

I shall worry evermore.

Will you not, I ask you briefly,

Answer in the good old way;

What you think of one who, wisely,

Tries to make his best friend gay?

I've been feeling quite i'erheated

In my furlined flannel fare.

Do you think it's time for me to-----

Change my Winter underwear?