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Classic and Contemporary Poetry | |||
Poet, beware! The sonnet's primrose path Is all too tempting for thy feet to tread. Not on this journey shalt thou earn thy bread, Because the sated reader roars in wrath: 'Little indeed to say the singer hath, And little sense in all that he hath said; Such rhymes are lightly writ but hardly read, And naught but stubble is his aftermath.' Then shall he cast that bonny book of thine Where the extreme waste-paper basket gapes; There shall thy futile fancies peak and pine, With other minor poets-pallid shapes, Who come a long way short of the divine, Tormented souls of imitative apes. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SCOT TO JEANNE D'ARC by ANDREW LANG A VERY WOEFUL BALLADE OF THE ART CRITIC (TO E.A. ABBEY) by ANDREW LANG ALMAE MATRES (ST. ANDREWS, 1862; OXFORD, 1865) by ANDREW LANG BALLADE DEDICATORY TO MRS. ELTON OF WHITE STAUNTON by ANDREW LANG BALLADE OF CHRISTMAS GHOSTS by ANDREW LANG BALLADE OF CRICKET by ANDREW LANG |
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