The Test
Published by Webmaster on 07/30/2003 (3315 reads)Sometimes a bit of rhyme I see
In magazine or book
That makes such fond appeal to me
Its flaws I overlook;
It may be just a simple lay,
Yet humanly so pat,
That when I've scanned it twice I say:
"I wish I'd written that."
But when I read some classic ode
Of gods and mighty men,
To finish it I have to goad
My patience now and then.
Although to thrill to it I try,
Its organ note goes flat,
And honestly I cannot sigh:
"I wish I'd written that."
Some poems lift aloft the mind,
Some whisper to the heart;
Unto the last I'm more inclined,
Though innocent of art.
Some verses get beneath my skin -
Like Casey at the Bat,
Or Jim Bloodso or Gunga Din -
Why didn't I write that?
These bards have got the edge on me,
I've missed the lyric bus;
My rhymes and meters, I agree,
Are sadly obvious.
My balladeering lays I rue,
I'm just a copy-cat. . . .
Goldarn that devil, Dan McGrew -
Oh why did I write that?
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