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He scribbles some in prose and verse, And now and then he prints it; He paints a little,—gathers some Of Nature's gold and mints it. He plays a little, sings a song, Acts tragic roles, or funny; He does, because his love is strong, But not, oh, not for money! He studies almost everything From social art to science; A thirsty mind, a flowing spring, Demand and swift compliance. He looms above the sordid crowd— At least through friendly lenses; While his mamma looks pleased and proud, And kindly pays expenses. |