Fairies and Fusiliers by Robert Ranke Graves
page 59 of 59 (100%)
page 59 of 59 (100%)
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My rhymes must go
Turn 'ee, twist 'ee, Twinkling, frosty, Will-o'-the-wisp-like, misty; Rhymes I will make Like Keats and Blake And Christina Rossetti, With run and ripple and shake. How pretty To take A merry little rhyme In a jolly little time And poke it, And choke it, Change it, arrange it, Straight-lace it, deface it, Pleat it with pleats, Sheet it with sheets Of empty conceits, And chop and chew, And hack and hew, And weld it into a uniform stanza, And evolve a neat, Complacent, complete, Academic extravaganza! |
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