Poem by Pelham Grenville Wodehouse

’Tis Folly to Be Wise

O PHYLLIS, once no task to me was sweeter
	Than, grasping my enthusiastic quill,
To hymn your charms; erratic though the metre,
	It gained in fervour what it lacked in skill.

But now, alas, those charms are like to vanish.
	Without preamble duty bids me speak.
The rumour runs that you are learning Spanish,
	And also – simultaneously – Greek.

Those eyes, to which I loved to dash off stanzas,
	No longer gaze, as erstwhile, into mine;
They’re fixed on Quixote’s deeds, or Sancho Panza’s,
	Or rest upon some Eschylean line.

Or, as you spell THUCYDIDES his speeches,
	Your face assumes a look of care and pain.
O PHYLLIS, heed the moral that it teaches,
	And cease to run the risk of growing plain.

Shun, I implore, the vampire Education.
	Be guided by my excellent advice.
You owe a solemn duty to the nation –
	Simply to give your mind to looking nice.

Learning may be acquired, but beauty never;
	Dry books, believe me, were not meant for you.
Be fair, sweet maid, and let who will be clever;              
	If brains are wanted, I’ve enough for two.

1. Printer's Error
2. Damon and Pythias
3. The Lost Repartee
4. The Pessimist
5. Napoleon

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