WHEN, lady, you applaud my rhymes Appearing in the public prints, (As you have done a dozen times), I wince. A bead (or two) bepearls my brow; I modestly say "Pooh!" or "Tush!" I'd blush, I think, if I knew how To blush. Once, when your praise was too absurd, I spoke of Calverley. With vim And scorn you said: "I never heard Of him." Tottered my reason, shook my nerve, I stifled an uprising sob. "Has she," I wondered, "heard of Irv- In Cobb?" Take, lady, then, this blithesome book— My friend, philosopher, and guide— And don't, I pray, forget to look Inside. How fair the rhymes! The verse how fresh! Like "one clear harp in divers tones." Read "Flight," "Forever,"—oh, read "Prec- Ious Stones"! Here, all this treasured tome throughout, Shall you find undiluted joy. You, in your classic phrase, will shout "@3Oh, boy!@1" Yet pricks the thorn upon the rose; And lurks the wormwood in the cup: Calverley. ... Lady, how he shows Me up! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WORD-PORTRAITS: THE DESCRIPTION OF SIR GEOFFREY CHAUCER by ROBERT GREENE MY AUNT by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES MORAL ESSAYS: EPISTLE 4. TO RICHARD BOYLE, EARL BURLINGTON by ALEXANDER POPE FIELD AMBULANCE IN RETREAT; VIA DOLOROSA, VIA SACRA by MAY SINCLAIR ON BEING ASKED FOR A WAR POEM by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE INCENSE BURNER by ABUS SALT |