I hesitate to make a list Off all the countless deals I’ve missed; Bonanzas that were in my grip – I watched through my fingers slip; The windfalls which I should have bought Were lost because I over thought; I thought of this, I thought of that, I could have sworn I smelled a rat, And while I thought things over twice Another grabbed them at the price. It seems I always hesitate, Then make up my mind much too late. A very cautious man am I And that is why I never buy. How Nassau and how Suffolk grew! North Jersey! Staten Island, too! When others culled those sprawling farms And welcomed deals with open arms A corner here, ten acres there, Compounding values year by year, I chose to think and as I thought, They bought the deals I should have bought. | The golden chances I had then Are lost and will not come again. Today I cannot be enticed For everything’s so overpriced. The deals of yesteryear are dead; The market’s soft – and so’s my head. Last night I had a fearful dream I know I wakened with a scream; Some Indians approached my bed – For trinkets on the barrelhead (In dollar bills worth twenty-four And nothing less and nothing more) They’d sell Manhattan Isle to me, The most I’d go was twenty-three, The redmen scowled: “Not on a bet!” And sold to Peter Minuit. At times a teardrop drowns my eye For deals I had, but did not buy; And now life’s saddest words I pen “If only I’d invested then!” Farm and Land Realtor Magazine October, 1917 |