The Candidate's Soliloquy

In November 1912, Calgary was in the midst of a municipal election campaign. The Morning Albertan, the forerunner to the Calgary Sun, published the following poem on its front page a century ago today—November 13, 1912. The poet references the two leading mayoralty contenders, incumbent John W. Mitchell (who went down to defeat) and Harry Sinnott (the winner). He also refers to successful aldermanic candidates Stanley G. Freeze and Thomas Arthur Presswood Frost, defeated aldermanic candidate R.J. Frizzle, and defeated candidate for commissioner George M. Lang.

 

Morning Albertan, November 13, 1912, page 1

The Candidate’s Soliloquy

By Harry F. Burmester

To run or not to run—that is the question;

Whether ‘tis wiser for a man to suffer the heartless wallops of

a flock of voters, or,

Take passage on a sea of troubles and by smart sailing end them

To run for office and perchance to win! Aye, there’s the rub,

For in that running there are things that come

To quiet candidates with thoughts of home,

That make them weep and wail and gnash their pet bicuspids.

O, Tempora! O, Mores! O, a lot of things!

Kidd Fate, if I could only by some occult means

Dope out just what you have in store for me,

Perhaps I’d fling away ambition, cease to yearn

For things in nightly visions that I often see

Obeisance, honor, and the praise that comes

To men of office, I would shun, I reck,

If I but know I’d get it in the neck.

Frizzle, Frost and Freeze! Gad, what a fate

These names suggest. No luck can wait them at election date.

And I see painted on that culture screen of mine

A warning—something like an old Lang sign.

It augurs ill for me.

Mitchell, Sinnot [sic], and some others, too, may feel

The beat of public pulse when people vote.

Something whispers that they’ve got my goat.

Last night the gang assembled on the Heights to talk

Planks and platforms. I was there. I’m glad I didn’t speak,

For somehow, both my knees felt very weak.

This game of politics is a game of chance.

And fortune is so fickle. ‘Ere I start and give

The boys a chance of taking all I own save life,

Hold on a minute ‘till I ask my wife.