His name was William Adam Henderson

He was of the usual human clay,

And being only this his fate made sure

He went the usual human way.

His life was regular and commonplace

Showed nothing that had not been done before,

William was good as most, as bad

As some, as dull as thousands more.

When he was twenty he had finished school

And written poetry a bit, played ball,

Dreamed dreams, though not too much, worked hard, loved girls;

At twenty he was straight and tall.

He thought life lay before him and it did

For he was twenty when his father died.

He thought he could support the family

If he would try and William tried.

At thirty he had wed a blue eyed girl.

He had two healthy boys and found success

And could enjoy besides his land and home

Some measure of a well earned happiness.

He was an ordinary citizen.

He trimmed the lawn, and smoked, as good men will,

And worked his back-yard garden, went to church

And loved his wife as en do still.

At fifty he had sent his sons to college

As Fathers often plan and hope to do.

Then William Henderson at fifty one

Dropped dead. Well, men have done that, too.