Miniver Cheevy
==============
Adapted from "Miniver Cheevy" by Edwin Arlington Robinson

Miniver Cheevy, child of scorn,
   Grew lean while he assailed the seasons;
He wept he was ever born,
   And he had reasons
   Reasons, reasons

Miniver loved the days of old
   When swords were bright and steeds were prancing;
The vision of warrior bold
   Would set him dancing
   Dancing, dancing

Miniver mourned the ripe renown
   That made so many a name so fragrant;
He mourned Romance, on the town,
   And Art, a vagrant
   Vagrant, vagrant

"Curse this place!         |
It lacks mediaeval grace.  |
This suit i loathe.        |- chorus
Dress me in iron clothes!  |
You say, it's not,         |
But i see Camelot."        |

Miniver loved the Medici,
   Albeit he had never seen one;
He would have sinned incessantly
   Could he have been one
   Been one, been one

Miniver scorned the gold he sought,
   But sore annoyed was he without it;
Miniver thought, and thought, and thought,
   And thought about it
   'Bout it, 'bout it

[chorus]

Miniver Cheevy, born too late,
   Scratched his head, kept on thinking;
Miniver coughed, called it fate,
   And kept on drinking.