Smart Young Men

I’M doubtless a hoary
And bigoted Tory
With views no one needs to regard;
An acrid Old Berry,
A reactionary,
With arteries brittle and hard;
But still, notwithstanding the same,
I palsiedly rise to exclaim: —
I’m tired of smart young men,
Ironic and tart young men,
Of searchingly critical,
Keen, analytical,
Pull-things-apart young men.
I’m weary of bright young men,
Of poised, erudite young men,
Of brilliant and lacquery,
Wit-with-a-bite young men.
Oh, go get the air, young men,
You Vanity Fair young men,
Cool, egotisticate,
Precious and rare young men.
I’m bored with astute young men,
With highly acute young men,
With New-Yoker-staff-ical,
Trenchant and graphical,
Don’t-give-a-hoot young men.
I’m sick of cocksure young men,
Of far from demure young men,
Of flippant and larky-ish,
Blithe, Morris Markey-ish,
Hard-to-endure young men.
So, go take a trek, young men;
Pipe down on the deck, young men;
Stuff you are springing aNnoys me, it’s bringing a
Pain in the neck, young men!