No dainty rhymes or sentimental love verses for you terrible year, Whitman wrote in Eighteen Sixty-One, Not you as some pale poetling seated at a desk lisping cadenzas piano, But as a strong man erect, clothed in blue clothes, …

He's such a phony, he doesn't believe half of what he says.

Do you hear how we are shent for keeping your greatness back?

I received gigs for having buttons of my uniform undone.