To a waterfowl

Whither, midst falling dew, Or what may seem to some like rising muck, Doth that brave creature gamely now pursue The pathway of a duck? Vainly, the public's eye Might seek to see the cause of all thy fame While fettered in thy House or Senate high And wrongly labeled lame. Canst thou be ought but spry, Who wings misguided missiles on the pad And nabs a raise in wages on the fly, While slow folks have things bad? Now comes deserved rest, A holiday with feathered friends at home. Did ducks or President each other best? Who cares, it's just a pome. -- Apologies to William Cullen Bryant

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