From The Detroit Times, July 18, 1913. By Berton Braley.

Oh, bother me not with duty
    And hector me not with work.
No possible sum of booty
    Could make me do aught but shirk.
The office can go to thunder
    And business can go to pot.
I’m going to remain here under
    The shade of the porch—it’s hot!

If Wall Street is in a flurry,
    If Washington’s in a muss,
I murmur, “Well, I should worry.”
    I mutter, “Well, what’s the fuss.”
For politics cannot stir me,
    I don’t give a hang for trade,
And nothing on earth can spur me
    To move from my spot of shade.

The toilers may all deride me,
    They say I’m a sloth, I know.
But a tinkling pitcher’s beside me
    And the hammock is swinging slow.
There’s no one on earth that has a
    More absolute sense of ease.
Oh, it’s me for the cool piazza
    And the breath of the lazy breeze!