The Man who could Write

           Shun—shun the Bowl! That fatal, facile drink
              Has ruined many geese who dipped their quills in ’t;
           Bribe, murder, marry, but steer clear of Ink
             Save when you write receipts for paid-up bills in ’t.
           There may be silver in the “blue-black”—all
           I know of is the iron and the gall.
 
1 
Boanerges Blitzen, servant of the Queen,
Is a dismal failure—is a Might-have-been.
In a luckless moment he discovered men
Rise to high position through a ready pen.
2 
Boanerges Blitzen argued therefore—“I,
With the selfsame weapon, can attain as high.”
Only he did not possess when he made the trial,
Wicked wit of Colvin, irony of Lyall.

[Men who spar with Government need, to back their blows,
Something more than ordinary journalistic prose.]
3 
Never young Civilian’s prospects were so bright,
Till an Indian paper found that he could write:
Never young Civilian’s prospects were so dark,
When the wretched Blitzen wrote to make his mark.
4 
Certainly he scored it, bold, and black, and firm,
In that Indian paper—made his seniors squirm,
Quoted office scandals, wrote the tactless truth—
Was there ever known a more misguided youth?
5 
When the Rag he wrote for praised his plucky game,
Boanerges Blitzen felt that this was Fame;
When the men he wrote of shook their heads and swore,
Boanerges Blitzen only wrote the more:
6 
Posed as Young Ithuriel, resolute and grim,
Till he found promotion didn’t come to him;
Till he found that reprimands weekly were his lot,
And his many Districts curiously hot.
7 
Till he found his furlough strangely hard to win,
Boanerges Blitzen didn’t care a pin:
Then it seemed to dawn on him something wasn’t right—
Boanerges Blitzen put it down to “spite”;
8 
Languished in a District desolate and dry;–
Watched the Local Government yearly pass him by;
Wondered where the hitch was; called it most unfair.
                            •  •  •  •
That was seven years ago—and he still is there!

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