Evangeline

by Edgar Allan Poe

Do tell when shall we make common sense men out of the owl-eyed pundits

　　Out of The Frog-faced stupid old God-born Pundits who lost in a fog-bank

　　Strut about all along shore there somewhere close by the Down East

　　Frog Duck Pond munching of pea nuts and pumpkins and buried in big-wigs

　　Why ask who ever yet saw money made out of a fat old

　　Jew or downright upright nutmegs out of a pine-knot