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Poem by Pelham Grenville Wodehouse


Napoleon


Napoleon was a little guy: 
	They used to call him Shorty. 
He only stood about so high. 
	His chest was under forty 
But when folks started talking mean. 
	His pride it didn’t injure: 
‘My queen,’ he’d say to Josephine, 
	‘The thing that counts is ginger.’ 

He got too fat. We all know that 
	From portraits in the galleries. 
He never seemed to learn the knack 
	Of laying off the calories. 
But though his waist was large, he faced 
	And overcame all foemen. 
He knew quite well it’s brains that tell 
	And not a guy’s abdomen.



Pelham Grenville Wodehouse


Pelham Grenville Wodehouse's other poems:
  1. Printer's Error
  2. Damon and Pythias
  3. The Lost Repartee
  4. The Pessimist
  5. A Solitary Triumph


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