Explore "A Crushed Hero" by Joseph C. Lincoln on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
On a log behind the pigsty of a modest little farm, / Sits a freckled youth and lanky, red of hair and long of arm; / But his mien is proud and haughty and his brow is high and stern, / And beneath their sandy lashes, fiery eyes with purpose burn. / Bow before him, gentle reader, he's the hero we salute, / He is Hiram Adoniram Andrew Jackson Shute.
Search not Fame's immortal marbles, never there his name you'll find, / For our hero, let us whisper, is a hero in his mind; / And a youth may bathe in glory, wade in slaughter time on time, / When a novel, wild and gory, may be purchased for a dime. / And through reams of lurid pages has he slain the Sioux and Ute, / Bloody Hiram Adoniram Andrew Jackson Shute.