A poem about James Watt
When Watt was but a little boy—
His papa’s pride, his mama’s joy—
He sat beside the kitchen fire
The bubbling teapot to admire;
And as he watched the hissing steam
He straightway then began to dream
Of what the vapor hot could do
If how to use it he but knew.
Eventually he devised
A neat invention which surprised
The people of that early day—
He made an engine, anyway.
This poor contrivance he improved
Until by it great loads were moved
And horses were displaced by rails,
While sidewheels took the place of sails.
Observe, my child, how one small thing
A wondrous lot of change will bring:
Because wise little Jimmy Watt
Could turn to some account his thought,
Today the trains go whizzing through
The land, and o’er the ocean blue
The mighty ships scoot night and day
From here to countries far away.
Great thanks are due to this James Watt,
Also to his mama’s teapot,
By porters who on every trip
Hold up the tourist for a tip,
And also by that mighty mass
Of folks who travel on a pass,
And by the ones who rake in rocks
Through squeezes that they work in stocks.
But that it would like punning seem
We’d say Watt has the world’s esteem
(But since we’ve said it that way now
We’ll let the pun go, anyhow).
But, somehow, when we chanced to stop
Beside some busy boiler shop,
We cannot say that peace was brought
To all of us by Jimmy Watt.