Many men, when fickle fortune farts
In their wretched faces, take the hint,
Choose to quench the flame within their hearts,
Hide their dreams like so much navel lint.
Anyone would think this fellow here,
Even though he smiles, is one of those!
Look, however, past his flaws; it’s clear:
Tucked within his heart, a furnace glows!
O, ye scathing critics, judge not him
Merely by his grating, nasal drawl!
Know that brow so thick and eye so dim
In fact need not spell “Neanderthal”!
No indeed! This lad is quite unique!
See? To call him apelike would be cheek!