From The Times Dispatch, March 26, 1914. By Thomas Lomax Hunter.
My friend, because you didn’t get
The public office that you sought,
Don’t holler fraud. Don’t squeal and fret.
Don’t shout aloud that votes were bought.
Smile and look pleasant. That’s the plan.
Don’t talk about the “campaign lie.”
Say, “What most helped that Other Man
Was that he got more votes than I.”
If you are gracious and discreet,
And never whimper or complain,
You will make profit of defeat,
And get there when you run again.
The squealer never can come back,
Because, you see, the few votes more
That he was plainly shown to lack,
He cannot win by getting sore.
No matter what the game you play,
No matter what the race you run,
The loser should be brave and gay.
This spirit gives the game its fun.
You cannot always win, but you
Howe’er the wheel of fortune spins,
Can give your vanquisher his due
And cry, “Hurrah! The best man wins!”
In him the people most delight
(Next to the hero with his fame),
Who, having fought his utmost fight
Now takes his beating gay and game.
Instinctively, we feel that he
Whose courage ‘neath no beating fell,
Will some day win the victory,
And wear it modestly and well.
Then just because the battle’s lost
Don’t lose your self-control also.
To conquer self at any cost
Takes half the victory from the foe.
Shall people say when you pass by,
“There goes that sorehead bawler out,”
Or slap you on the back and cry,
“I hope you’ll win next time, old scout?”
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