Page 52 - Poetry-Books

First Appearance in Type

Ah, here it is! I’m famous now;
An author and a poet,
It really is in print. Hurrah!
How proud I’ll be to show it.
And gentle Anna! what a thrill
Will animate her breast,
To read these ardent lines, and know,
To whom they are addressed.

Why, bless my soul! here’s something wrong;
What can the paper mean,
By talking of the “graceful brook,”
That “ganders o’er the green?”
And here’s a t instead of r,
Which makes it “tipping rill,”
We’ll seek the “shad” instead of “shade,”
And “hell” instead of “hill.”
“Thy looks so”—what?—I recollect,
‘Twas “sweet,” and then ‘twas “kind”;
And now, to think—the stupid fool—
For “bland” has printed “blind.”
Was ever such provoking work?
(‘Tis curious, by the by,
That any thing is rendered blind
By giving it an i.)

The color of the “rose” is “nose,”
“Affection” is “affliction.”
I wonder if the likeness holds
In fact as well as fiction?
“Thou art a friend.” The r is gone;
Whoever could have deemed
That such a trifling thing could change
A friend into a fiend.

“Thou art the same,” is rendered “shame,”
It really is too bad!
And here because an i is out
My lovely “maid” is mad.

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