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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=472379" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>At The</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">DECEMBER 15, 1874</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I SUPPOSE it's myself that you're making allusion to<br>And bringing the sense of dismay and confusion to.<br>Of course some must speak,--they are always selected to,<br>But pray what's the reason that I am expected to?<br>I'm not fond of wasting my breath as those fellows do;<br>That want to be blowing forever as bellows do;<br>Their legs are uneasy, but why will you jog any<br>That long to stay quiet beneath the mahogany?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Why, why call me up with your battery of flatteries?<br>You say 'He writes poetry,'--that 's what the matter is<br>'It costs him no trouble--a pen full of ink or two<br>And the poem is done in the time of a wink or two;<br>As for thoughts--never mind--take the ones that lie uppermost,<br>And the rhymes used by Milton and Byron and Tupper most;<br>The lines come so easy! at one end he jingles 'em,<br>At the other with capital letters he shingles 'em,--<br>Why, the thing writes itself, and before he's half done with it<br>He hates to stop writing, he has such good fun with it!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah, that is the way in which simple ones go about<br>And draw a fine picture of things they don't know about!<br>We all know a kitten, but come to a catamount<br>The beast is a stranger when grown up to that amount,<br>(A stranger we rather prefer should n't visit us,<br>A _felis_ whose advent is far from felicitous.)<br>The boy who can boast that his trap has just got a mouse<br>Must n't draw it and write underneath 'hippopotamus';<br>Or say unveraciously, 'This is an elephant,'--<br>Don't think, let me beg, these examples irrelevant,--<br>What they mean is just this--that a thing to be painted well<br>Should always be something with which we're acquainted well.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You call on your victim for 'things he has plenty of,--<br>Those copies of verses no doubt at least twenty of;<br>His desk is crammed full, for he always keeps writing 'em<br>And reading to friends as his way of delighting 'em!'<br>I tell you this writing of verses means business,--<br>It makes the brain whirl in a vortex of dizziness<br>You think they are scrawled in the languor of laziness--<br>I tell you they're squeezed by a spasm of craziness,<br>A fit half as bad as the staggering vertigos<br>That seize a poor fellow and down in the dirt he goes!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And therefore it chimes with the word's etytology<br>That the sons of Apollo are great on apology,<br>For the writing of verse is a struggle mysterious<br>And the gayest of rhymes is a matter that's serious.<br>For myself, I'm relied on by friends in extremities,<br>And I don't mind so much if a comfort to them it is;<br>'T is a pleasure to please, and the straw that can tickle us<br>Is a source of enjoyment though slightly ridiculous.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am up for a--something--and since I 've begun with it,<br>I must give you a toast now before I have done with it.<br>Let me pump at my wits as they pumped the Cochituate<br>That moistened--it may be--the very last bit you ate:<br>Success to our publishers, authors and editors<br>To our debtors good luck,--pleasant dreams to our creditors;<br>May the monthly grow yearly, till all we are groping for<br>Has reached the fulfilment we're all of us hoping for;<br>Till the bore through the tunnel--it makes me let off a sigh<br>To think it may possibly ruin my prophecy--<br>Has been punned on so often 't will never provoke again<br>One mild adolescent to make the old joke again;<br>Till abstinent, all-go-to-meeting society<br>Has forgotten the sense of the word inebriety;<br>Till the work that poor Hannah and Bridget and Phillis do<br>The humanized, civilized female gorillas do;<br>Till the roughs, as we call them, grown loving and dutiful,<br>Shall worship the true and the pure and the beautiful,<br>And, preying no longer as tiger and vulture do,<br>All read the 'Atlantic' as persons of culture do!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Oliver+Wendell+Holmes">Oliver Wendell Holmes</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=472379" data-title="At The de Oliver Wendell Holmes" data-description="DECEMBER 15, 1874

I SUPPOSE it's myself that you're making allusion to
And bringing the sense of dismay and confusion to.
Of course some must speak,--they are always selected to,
But pray what's the reason that I am expected to?
I'm not fond of w..."></div>
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