This is the country where a commandant
Discovered persiflage and flavored it,
Enlisted Cherokees for crowd control,
Good local color, founded an orphanage,
And called it Huxley on the Hill of Beans.
A modernizer, they say now, who stored
The name of every voter in a barn
Shaped like the Trianon, then burned it down
To prove he was sincere. From the insurance
He bought a trotter and a Brahma bull
With erysipelas and crooked horns.
They wouldn't get it on. He claimed a spread
Deeper in Texas than he ever went,
Who spent his twilight out on old Cape Cod,
A victim of the Zeitgeist and detente,
An advocate for antinomians.
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