Wrong? are they wrong? Of course they are, I venture to reply; For I bore 'my first' (and, I hope, my worst) A month or so gone by; And I can't repeat it under this Or any other sky. What! has the public never heard In these benighted climes That nascent note of my Laureate throat, That fluty fitte of rhymes Which occupied about a half A column of the @3Times?@1 They little know what they have lost, Nor what a carnal beano They might have spent in the thick of Lent If only Daniel Leno Had sung them @3Jameson's Ride@1 and knocked The Monaco Casino. Nay! this is life! to take a turn On Fortune's captious crust; To pluck the day in a human way Like men of common dust; But O! if England's only bard Should absolutely bust! A laureate never borrows on His coming quarter's pay; And I mean to stop or ever I pop My crown of peerless bay; So I'll take the next @3rapide@1 to Nice, And the 'bus to Cimiez. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FISH-LEAP FALL by ROBERT FROST ON THE INFLATION OF THE CURRENCY, 1919 by ROBERT FROST DEVASTATION by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON A SEA-SHORE GRAVE by SIDNEY LANIER THE GARDEN OF ADONIS by EMMA LAZARUS |