With you we hatch the pasty snipe, And all undaunted face Huge fish of unfamiliar type— Bush-pike and bubble-dace; Or, fired by hopes of lyric fame, We deviate from prose, And make it our especial aim Bun-sonnets to compose.
I wonder did the ancients prove Responsive to your spell, Or, riveted to Reason’s groove, Against your charms rebel. And yet some senator obese, In Rome long years ago, May have misnamed a masterpiece _De Gallo bellico_.
We know there were heroic men Ere AGAMEMNON’S days, Who passed forgotten from our ken, Lacking a poet’s praise; But, though great Metaphasiarchs Have doubtless flourished sooner, I’m sure their raciest remarks Have been eclipsed by S*****r.
Up to the end of the great QUEEN’S reign Pegasus proved a tractable steed; Verse was metrical, mostly sane; “Fleshly” singers who wished to exceed Seldom, however great was their need, Held that prosody was a crime. Critics were one and all agreed: “Poets will never abandon rhyme.”
Now, inspired by a high disdain, Grudging the past its rightful meed, Georgian minstrels, might and main, Urge that verse must be wholly freed Now and for ever from rules that lead Singers in chains to a jingling chime, Slaves of the obscurantist screed: “Poets will never abandon rhyme.”
MILTON and TENNYSON give them pain; MARINETTI’S the man they heed, Grim apostle of stress and strain, Noise, machinery, smell and speed. Yet the best of the British breed, Fighters who sing ’mid blood and grime, Lend new force to the ancient rede: “Poets will never abandon rhyme.”
Prince, _vers libre_ is a noxious weed; Verse that is blank _may_ be sublime; Still, in spite of the Georgian creed, Poets will never abandon rhyme.
(_Lines suggested by the recent demise of the inventor of Esperanto_.)
As a patriotic Briton I am naturally smitten With disgust When some universal lingo By a zealous anti-Jingo Is discussed.
Some there are who hold that Spanish In the end is bound to banish Other tongues; Some again regard Slavonic As a stimulating tonic For the lungs.
I would sooner bank on Tuscan, Ay, or even on Etruscan, Than on Erse; But fanatical campaigners, Gaelic Leaguers and Sinn Feiners Find it terse.
Some are moved to have a shy at Persian, thanks to the _Rubáiyát_ And its ease; But it’s quite another matter If you’re anxious for to chatter In Chinese.