Speak, Say, Tell, and Talk,
Flaunting their differences,
Went for a walk.
“Gossips and chatterers do well
To use my services,” said Tell,
“And when the fastidious balk,
To heighten interest I prepare
A faintly surreptitious air.”
“In my inimitable way,
I foster prose,” contended Say,
“Discourse would crumble into nonsense
Without my general assistance,
Over and over in the past tense.”
“My dears, to lend a delicate note,
Invariably one says — I quote —
‘Speak French’, ‘Speak Greek,’
‘Speak for Mankind,’
One ‘says’ one’s piece, but ‘speaks’ one’s mind,
I, Speak, am the choice of the refined.”
“And when the world’s interpreters seek
The voice of the mighty and the meek —
Horace’s odes, Magellan’s logs,
The Ten Commandments, shouts to dogs —
I reign supreme,” said Speak.
“You, Talk, are for the brute and lout:
‘Talk tough,’ ‘talk back,’
‘Talk over,’ ‘talk out’.”
“Drivel!” cried Talk,
“The Hell you say!
You snivel and cavil
And lead us astray.”
“Well, speak of the Devil!
What did I tell you?”
“Says who?” cried Say.
So fated to expound and fret,
The verbs’ synonymous quartet,
Pitched to fine nuances of wrath,
Proceeded loudly down the path.