A Good Sport

I was a little lad, and the older boys called to me from the pier:     They called to me:    'Be a sport:    be a sport!    Leap in and swim!'     I leaped in and swam, though I had never been taught a stroke.     Then I was made a hero, and they all shouted:          'Well done!    Well done,     Brave boy, you are a sport, a good sport!'     And I was very glad.     But now I wish I had learned to swim the right way,          Or had never learned at all.     Now I regret that day,          For it led to my fall.     I was a youth, and I heard the older men talking of the road to wealth;     They talked of bulls and bears, of buying on margins,     And they said, 'Be a sport, my boy, plunge in and win or lose it all!     It is the only way to fortune.'     So I plunged in and won; and the older men patted me on the back,     And they said, 'You are a sport, my boy, a good sport!'     And I was very glad.     But now I wish I had lost all I ventured on that day -          Yes, wish I had lost it all.     For it was the wrong way,          And pushed me to my fall.     I was a young man, and the gay world called me to come;     Gay women and gay men called to me, crying:          'Be a sport; be a good sport!     Fill our glasses and let us fill yours.     We are young but once; let us dance and sing,     And drive the dull hours of night until they stand at bay     Against the shining bayonets of day.'     So I filled my glass, and I filled their glasses, over and over again,     And I sang and danced and drank, and drank and danced and sang,     And I heard them cry, 'He is a sport, a good sport!'     As they held their glasses out to be filled again.     And I was very glad.     Oh the madness of youth and song and dance and wine,     Of woman's eyes and lips, when the night dies in the arms of dawn!     And now I wish I had not gone that way.     Now I wish I had not heard them say,     'He is a sport, a good sport!'     For I am old who should be young.     The splendid vigour of my youth I flung     Under the feet of a mad, unthinking throng.     My strength went out with wine and dance and song;     Unto the winds of earth I tossed like chaff,     With idle jest and laugh,     The pride of splendid manhood, all its wealth     Of unused power and health -     Its dream of looking into some pure girl's eyes     And finding there its earthly paradise -     Its hope of virile children free from blight -     Its thoughts of climbing to some noble height     Of great achievement -all these gifts divine     I cast away for song and dance and wine.     Oh, I have been a sport, a good sport;     But I am very sad.