Explore "The Ballad of the Thoughtless" by Franklin P. Adams on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Waiter
I saw him lying cold and dead / Who yesterday was whole.
"Why," I inquired, "hath he expired?
And why hath fled his soul?"
"But yesterday," his comrade said, / "All health was his, and strength; / And this is why he came to die -- / If I may speak at length.
"But yesternight at dinnertime / At a not unknown cafe, / He had a frugal meal as you / Might purchase any day.
"The check for his so simple fare / Was only eighty cents, / And a dollar bill with a right good will / Came from his opulence.
"The waiter brought him twenty cents. / 'Twas only yesternight / That he softly said who now is dead / 'Oh, keep it. 'At's a' right.'
"And the waiter plainly uttered 'Thanks,' / With no hint of scorn or pride; / And my comrade's heart gave a sudden start / And my comrade up and died."
Now waiters overthwart this land, / In tearooms and in dives, / Mute be your lips whatever the tips, / And save your customers' lives.