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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=357969" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Mystic</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">An 'Ode to the Moon' did he indite<br>With his two-and-half soul-power.<br>('Twas the child of a starlit summer night,<br>Begot by a gloomy hour.)</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>And he vowed it was a work immense,<br>And he quoted it a lot,<br>And be published it at his own expense;<br>But the cold, hard world said - 'Rot!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>And he wrote him ringing verse of horse,<br>And the stockman, and his pipe,<br>And the brooding bushland; but, of course,<br>The world just murmured - 'Tripe!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>So he sat him down for another fling,<br>And his time-exposure mind<br>Evolved a topical sort of thing,<br>Of a gay and hum'rous kind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>And he looked to see the world go wild,<br>And laugh until it cried;<br>But the verse was poor and the humor mild,<br>And - 'Bosh!' the tired world sighed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Then he oiled his weird, ball-bearing mind,<br>In a dull, despairing mood,<br>And he wrote a thing of a cryptic kind,<br>Which nobody understood.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>'Twas an ode to the 'Umph' and the 'Thingmebob,'<br>With a lilt and a right good ring,<br>And hints of a smirk, a snarl, a sob,<br>And a murky murmuring.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Nay, nobody understood a word,<br>Nor strove to understand;<br>But few dared say it was absurd,<br>So most agreed 'twas 'Grand!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Then be let his hair grow lank and long,<br>And an air intense he got,<br>And ever he strove to nurse in song<br>The cult of the 'Dunnowhat.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>And now he never writes in vain,<br>But a famous man is he,<br>With a ten soul-power and a chuck-lathe brain,<br>And an air of mystery.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>So, of his lot take heed; I wot<br>If you aspire to fame,<br>Don't waste a tune on horse or moon,<br>But rave of Whatsitsname;<br>It's tame,<br>But still it's Whatsitsname.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Clarence+Michael+James+Stanislaus+Dennis">Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=357969" data-title="The Mystic de Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis" data-description="An 'Ode to the Moon' did he indite
With his two-and-half soul-power.
('Twas the child of a starlit summer night,
Begot by a gloomy hour.)


And he vowed it was a work immense,
And he quoted it a lot,
And be published it at his own expense;
But the..."></div>
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