Name/Title
International Interral of the Hardy Way to GoEntry/Object ID
2013.2.73Scope and Content
Photocopy of typed poem, written by William Newport Goodell, 1928. Goodell moved into Grumblethorpe in the early 1934s and completely rehabilitated it. He established his studio there.
His poem: International Interral of the Hardy Way to Go."
"When I die, I'll not be tardy
In the style of Thomas Hardy
Which poor fellow's bones and heart
Now lie many miles apart
I will let my fans disperse
My body parts through the universe
And have each planet plan a chasm
Where to place my protoplasm.
But since gentle Mother Earth
Is the planet of my birth
It seems eminently fair
She should have the lion's share:
Pack my spleen to Spain in parcels,
Let my tibia and tarsals
Metatarsals and phalanges
Lie forever by the Ganges.
Gay Paree shall be the destination
of my large intestine,
While the lesser finds its rest
In the dust of Budapest.
Finally, my lungs shall own a
Little plot in Arizona,
And I'll will my brain, to boot,
To the Wistar Institute.
If my hopes do not betray me,
And executors obey me
(Burying my cerebellum,
Heart, and liver where I tell 'em),
Then, when pulse and breathing ceases,
I shall surely rest in pieces.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Alternative verses:
Tuneful venice shall hold dear
Fractions of my inner ear
and my silent lungs shall own a
Little plot in Arizona
Then I think my lungs should own a
Little plot in Arizona.
And I'll will my brain, to boot,
To the Wistar Institute."