ODE TO STEPHEN DOWLING BOTS
by: Mark Twain (1835-1910)
 ND did young Stephen sicken,
- And did young Stephen die?
- And did the sad hearts thicken,
- And did the mourners cry?
-
- No; such was not the fate of
- Young Stephen Dowling Bots;
- Though sad hearts round him thickened,
- 'Twas not from sickness' shots.
-
- No whooping-cough did rack his frame,
- Nor measles drear, with spots;
- Not these impaired the sacred name
- Of Stephen Dowling Bots.
-
- Despised love struck not with woe
- That head of curly knots,
- Nor stomach troubles laid him low,
- Young Stephen Dowling Bots.
-
- O no. Then list with tearful eye,
- Whilst I his fate do tell.
- His soul did from this cold world fly,
- By falling down a well.
-
- They got him out and emptied him;
- Alas it was too late;
- His spirit was gone for to sport aloft
- In the realms of the good and great.
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