When at the sign: Anthology
    I climbed aboard the lyric bus,
The poems that appeal to me
    Are often by Anonymous.
Behold amid the classic crew
    Is one of whom Fame made no fuss,
A rhyming rascal no one knew, -
                    Anonymous.

My name's a dud: 'mid poets I'm
    A leek among asparagus;
Yet let me make a lilt of rhyme
    And publish it anonymous;
Sweet, simple, short, a snatch of song
    Anthologists might prize, and thus
My lyric life I might prolong, -
                    Anonymous.

So when senile and all forgot
    My memory is minimus,
In some anthology new-bought
    I'll read a rhyme anonymous:
A saucy air that pleaseth me,
    And I will say: "Who is this cuss?"
And wonder: "Are you he or she, -
                    Anonymous?"