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1850–1919

A GOOD SPORT

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

I was a little lad, and the older boys called to me from the pier: They called to me:‘ Be a sport: be a sport! Leap in and swim!’ I leaped in and swam, though I had never been taught a stroke. Then I was made a hero, and they all shouted:

‘ Well done! Well done, Brave boy, you are a sport, a good sport!’ And I was very glad. But now I wish I had learned to swim the right way,

Or had never learned at all. Now I regret that day, For it led to my fall. I was a youth, and I heard the older men talking of the road to wealth;

They talked of bulls and bears, of buying on margins, And they said,‘ Be a sport, my boy, plunge in and win or lose it all! It is the only way to fortune.’ So I plunged in and won; and the older men patted me on the back,

And they said,‘ You are a sport, my boy, a good sport!’ And I was very glad. But now I wish I had lost all I ventured on that day - Yes, wish I had lost it all.

For it was the wrong way, And pushed me to my fall. I was a young man, and the gay world called me to come; Gay women and gay men called to me, crying:

‘ Be a sport; be a good sport! Fill our glasses and let us fill yours. We are young but once; let us dance and sing, And drive the dull hours of night until they stand at bay

Against the shining bayonets of day.’ So I filled my glass, and I filled their glasses, over and over again, And I sang and danced and drank, and drank and danced and sang, And I heard them cry,‘ He is a sport, a good sport!’

As they held their glasses out to be filled again. And I was very glad. Oh the madness of youth and song and dance and wine, Of woman's eyes and lips, when the night dies in the arms of dawn!

And now I wish I had not gone that way. Now I wish I had not heard them say, ‘ He is a sport, a good sport!’ For I am old who should be young.

The splendid vigour of my youth I flung Under the feet of a mad, unthinking throng. My strength went out with wine and dance and song; Unto the winds of earth I tossed like chaff,

With idle jest and laugh, The pride of splendid manhood, all its wealth Of unused power and health - Its dream of looking into some pure girl's eyes

And finding there its earthly paradise - Its hope of virile children free from blight - Its thoughts of climbing to some noble height Of great achievement — all these gifts divine

I cast away for song and dance and wine. Oh, I have been a sport, a good sport; But I am very sad.

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A GOOD SPORT · Ella Wheeler Wilcox · Poetry Cove