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Poem
April 7, 1911
The Wheeling Intelligencer
Wheeling, Ohio County, West Virginia
What is this article about?
Humorous satirical poem depicting Methuselah's boredom after 900 years of life, expressing weariness with the world and a desire for death, advising others to appreciate mortality.
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OCR Quality
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Excellent
Full Text
Uncle Walt
The Poet Philosopher
METHUSELAH
He lived nine hundred years and more, till living got to be a bore.
He often breathed a weary sigh when he saw hearses going by. "This thing has ceased to be a joke," he used to say: "I'd like to croak. The running mates I used to know went up the flume, long, long ago. The enemies I used to hate have kicked their last and pulled their freight. My hopes are dead, my thoughts are glum, and all the world is on the bum. I've had all things that I desired, and e'en the circus makes me tired. I would not walk two blocks to see a dogfight or a slugging bee. The years have doused me in the soup; I really would not give a whoop to see a suffrage parade or have my fill of lemonade. Great whiskers! Every other guy seems able to curl up and die, while I must live to beat the band—my fate I do not understand. My friends, be thankful when the day has come for you to pass away! There's nothing worse beneath the sky than living when you'd like to die!
There's nothing worse than drawing breath when you are suffering for death, when all the world is stale and old, and eyes are weak and hearts are cold, and all your friends are dead and gone it makes me tired, so help me John!
WALTMASON.
Copyright, 1911, by Geo. Matthew Adams.
The Poet Philosopher
METHUSELAH
He lived nine hundred years and more, till living got to be a bore.
He often breathed a weary sigh when he saw hearses going by. "This thing has ceased to be a joke," he used to say: "I'd like to croak. The running mates I used to know went up the flume, long, long ago. The enemies I used to hate have kicked their last and pulled their freight. My hopes are dead, my thoughts are glum, and all the world is on the bum. I've had all things that I desired, and e'en the circus makes me tired. I would not walk two blocks to see a dogfight or a slugging bee. The years have doused me in the soup; I really would not give a whoop to see a suffrage parade or have my fill of lemonade. Great whiskers! Every other guy seems able to curl up and die, while I must live to beat the band—my fate I do not understand. My friends, be thankful when the day has come for you to pass away! There's nothing worse beneath the sky than living when you'd like to die!
There's nothing worse than drawing breath when you are suffering for death, when all the world is stale and old, and eyes are weak and hearts are cold, and all your friends are dead and gone it makes me tired, so help me John!
WALTMASON.
Copyright, 1911, by Geo. Matthew Adams.
What sub-type of article is it?
Satire
Ballad
What themes does it cover?
Death Mourning
Moral Virtue
What keywords are associated?
Methuselah
Longevity
Boredom
Death Wish
Immortality Satire
What entities or persons were involved?
Waltmason.
Poem Details
Title
Methuselah
Author
Waltmason.
Form / Style
Rhymed Verse
Key Lines
He Lived Nine Hundred Years And More, Till Living Got To Be A Bore.
This Thing Has Ceased To Be A Joke," He Used To Say: "I'd Like To Croak.
My Friends, Be Thankful When The Day Has Come For You To Pass Away!
There's Nothing Worse Beneath The Sky Than Living When You'd Like To Die!
There's Nothing Worse Than Drawing Breath When You Are Suffering For Death... It Makes Me Tired, So Help Me John!