A soul from earth to heaven went. To whom the saint as he drew near, Said: “Sir, what claim do you present To us to be admitted here?” “In Boston I was born and bred, And in her schools was educated: I afterward at Harvard read, And was with honors graduated. “In Trinity a pew I own, Where Brooks is held in such respect, And the society is known To be the cream of the select. “In fair Nahant—a charming spot— I own a villa, lawns, arcades, And, last, a handsome burial lot In dead Mt. Auburn’s hallowed shades.” St. Peter mused and shook his head, Then, as a gentle sigh he drew, “Go back to Boston, friend,” he said, “Heaven isn’t good enough for you.” —The Old Farmer’s Almanac