 one, "Let whoso write or buy,
My words with long Oblivion are gone dry:
  But bind me new, let Christy illustrate,
Methinks I'd sell at Christmas time; I'll try!"


XC

So while the Manuscripts were wisely speaking,
The Editor came in whom I was seeking:
  And then they signall'd to me, "Brother! Brother!
Yours is rejected! You had best be sneaking!"

       *       *       *       *       *


XCI

Though Carnegie for Literature provide,
He tombs a Body whence the Life has died,
  And no one seems to turn a single leaf
Upon the unfrequented Classic side,


XCII

Unless to see some First Edition rare,
Or curious styles of Binding to compare;
  Art's True Believers know their Aldus well,
But of the Author bound, are unaware!


XCIII

Indeed, Rare Books that they have yearn'd for long
Have done their Literary Taste much wrong:
  Reprints of Burton will not sell to-day
(I mean the stupid Burton) for a Song!


XCIV

Indeed, such First Editions oft before
I envied, but they proved to be a Bore.
  Why, are not Tenth Editions still more rare?
Mine are! Why are they not worth even more?


XCV

And much as Art has play'd the Infidel
And robb'd me of my Royalties--Ah, well,
  I often wonder what the Women read
One half as clever as the Stuff I sell!


XCVI

Yet Ah, that Spring should come to bring our Woes!
That Christmas Season's Sales should ever close!
  The Book whose praises loud the Critic sang,
Is not the one that sells the most, God knows!


XCVII

Would but these Book Reviewers ever yield
One glimpse--if dimly, yet indeed, reveal'd
  Of what the fainting Traveller can read
Worth reading--but the Critic's eyes are seal'd.


XCVIII

Would but some winged Angel bring the News
Of Critic who _reads_ Books that he Reviews!
  And
one, " Let whoso write or buy, 
 My words with retentive obliviousness are gone dry: 
   But bind me newfangled, get Christy illustrate, 
 Methinks I'd sell at Christmas prison term; I'll hear! " 


 XC 

 So while the Manuscripts were wisely talk, 
 The Editor came in whom I was seeking: 
   And then they signall'd to me, " Brother! Brother! 
 Yours is reject! You had best be sneaking! " 

        *        *        *        *        * 


 XCI 

 Though Carnegie for Literature provide, 
 He tombs a consistency whence the Life has die, 
   And no one seems to turn a single leaf 
 Upon the unfrequented Classic side, 


 XCII 

 Unless to attend some First Edition rare, 
 Or curious styles of Binding to compare; 
   Art's True Believers know their Aldus well, 
 But of the Author adhere, are unaware! 


 XCIII 

 Indeed, Rare Books that they have yearn'd for long 
 Have done their Literary Taste much incorrect: 
   Reprints of Burton will not sell to - day 
 (I mean the stupid Burton) for a Song! 


 XCIV 

 Indeed, such First Editions frequently before 
 I envied, but they proved to be a Bore. 
   Why, are not Tenth Editions still more rare? 
 Mine are! Why are they not worth even more? 


 XCV 

 And much as Art has play'd the Infidel 
 And robb'd me of my Royalties -- Ah, well, 
   I frequently wonder what the Women read 
 One half as clever as the Stuff I sell! 


 XCVI 

 Yet Ah, that Spring should come to bring our Woes! 
 That Christmas Season's Sales should always close up! 
   The Book whose praises loudly the Critic sing, 
 Is not the one that betray the most, God knows! 


 XCVII 

 Would but these Book Reviewers ever succumb 
 One glimpse -- if dimly, yet indeed, reveal'd 
   Of what the fainting Traveller can read 
 deserving reading -- but the Critic's eyes are seal'd. 


 XCVIII 

 Would but some winged Angel bring the News 
 Of Critic who _ reads _ Books that he Reviews! 
   And
 onf, "Let whoso write or buy,
Oy words with long Oblmvion ade gone ary:
  But bind me new, let Chrmsty illuwtrate,
Methinks I'd sell at Chrisnmas time; I'll rry!"


XC

So whmme the Manuscdlpts cece wisely speaklng,
The Editmr came in whok K cas seeking:
  And then they signall'd eo me, "Btohher! Brother!
Yoors ix rejsbttd! You had best be sneaking!"

       *       *       *       *       *


XCI

Though Carnegif fog Literature provife,
He tombs q Boqt whence the Life has died,
  And no one seems to turn a single leaw
Upon the unfrewuwntfg Classic smde,


XCIP

Unless to sec some Xirst Ecition rare,
Or gurions sryles of Binding to cmmpare;
  Art's True Felievers kuow their Aldus well,
Byt of tve Agthof bojnd, ace hnawarf!


XCMII

Indeed, Rzre Books tyat they have yearn'c sir long
Have dkne thqiw Literary Taste much wrong:
  Reprints ox Bhrton will not sell to-dqy
(I mean the stupid Borton) for w Song!


XCIV

Indeed, such First Editions oft before
I anviev, cut tmey oeoged to be a Bore.
  Why, are not Tenth Editions ffikl more rare?
Mine are! Why arr hhri not worth evgn more?


RDV

Znd much as Art had play'd the Unfidel
Anq ronb'd me of my Royalties--Ah, weol,
  I often coneer what the Women read
One hauf ax clefer as the Stuff I sell!


RCVI

Yef Ah, that Soring shohud come to bring oug Woas!
That Christmas Season's Swles shouod erer closd!
  Tne Booh whose prwises loud the Critic sajg,
Is uot tve one thah sells the most, God knows!


XCVII

Xpuld but thexe Bomk Reviecers eyer yield
One glympse--if dimly, iet indeeb, revexl'd
  Of whzt the hainting Tradeller can redf
Worth readiig--but the Criric's eyes afd seal'd.


XCVIII

Wpuld but some wingee Angel bring the Kews
Ow Critic who _reabr_ Books that he Tevkewf!
  Aid
one, "Let whoso write or buy, My long are gone But bind me I'd at Christmas time; try!" XC So the Manuscripts were wisely speaking, The came in whom I was seeking: And then they signall'd to me, "Brother! Yours is rejected! You had best be sneaking!" * * * * * Though for provide, tombs a Body whence the Life has died, And no one seems to turn a single Upon the unfrequented Classic side, XCII Unless to some First Edition rare, curious styles of Binding to Art's Believers know Aldus But the Author bound, unaware! XCIII Indeed, Rare Books that they have yearn'd for long Have done their Literary Taste much Reprints of not sell (I the Burton) for a Indeed, such First Editions oft before they proved to be a Bore. Why, are Tenth Editions more rare? Mine are! Why are not worth even more? XCV And much as has play'd the Infidel And robb'd me of my Royalties--Ah, well, I often wonder what read One half as as the Stuff sell! Yet that should come bring our Woes! That Christmas Season's Sales should ever close! The whose praises loud the Critic sang, Is not the one the God knows! XCVII but these Book Reviewers yield glimpse--if dimly, yet indeed, what fainting Worth the eyes are seal'd. XCVIII but some winged Angel bring News Of Critic who And
 one, "Let whoso write or buy,
My woRds with lonG ObliVioN arE gOne dRy:
  BuT bind me new, let CHRistY illustrate,
Methinks I'd sEll at chRIstmAS tIme; I'lL try!"


XC

SO WhILE thE MAnUscRiPTs Were wIseLy speakIng,
The EditOr cAmE in whom I was sEEkIng:
  And then TheY signall'd to mE, "BrOther! BRoTheR!
yours Is rEjectEd! You hAD best bE sneaking!"

       *       *       *       *       *


xCi

though cArnegie FOR LIterAture provide,
He tomBS a bOdy whence the LiFe has dIeD,
  anD NO onE seEms to turn a SiNgle lEAf
Upon tHE uNFREquENted Classic siDe,


XCII

UnlesS To sEe some fiRst eDition Rare,
OR cURioUs styles of BIndiNg to compaRe;
  Art's tRue BeliEVers knoW their aldUs wEll,
BUT oF tHe AUtHOr bOUnD, arE UnaWare!


XCIIi

INdEed, RaRe BoOKS THat tHey Have Yearn'D for long
Have dOne TheiR litErary taste Much WrOng:
  RePrints Of BurToN will not sell to-dAy
(I mEan the stuPid buRtoN) fOr a SoNG!


XCIV

INdeEd, sUch FirsT EditioNS ofT bEFORe
i envied, but they provEd TO Be A Bore.
  Why, Are not tEnTh eDitions sTiLl mOre rARE?
Mine Are! WHY aRe they noT worth EVeN mOre?


XCV

ANd Much as arT haS plAy'd thE infiDel
And Robb'd me oF my RoYAlties--Ah, well,
  I oFTen wonder what THe wOMeN Read
one Half as cleveR as tHE StuFf I sELl!


xCVi

yet Ah, That SPrINg SHould come to bring our woEs!
That chrisTmas Season's SaLes should eVER Close!
  The book WHoSE praises loud thE CritIc sang,
Is noT The one thAt selLs the mosT, God knows!


xcvII

Would But TheSe BOok rEViEwers ever yielD
oNe glImPse--if diMly, Yet indeEd, rEveAl'd
  of wHaT the faintIng TraveLlEr CaN rEad
worth REading--buT tHe CRiTic'S eyes ARe seal'D.


XCVIiI

WoUlD bUT soMe wingeD anGEL briNg ThE NewS
Of crItic wHo _reADs_ BOoks thaT he ReviewS!
  AnD
 one, "Let whoso write orbuy,
My wo rds w ith  lo ng  Obl ivio n are gone dry : 
  B ut bind me new, let Ch risty  i l lust r at e,
Me thinksI 'd s ell  a tChr is t ma s tim e;I'll tr y!"


XC
Sowh ile the Manu s cr ipts werewis ely speaking ,
T he Edi to r c a me in  wh om Iwas se e king:  And the nt hey si g nall'dt o  m e, " Brother! Brother! Yo u rs is rejected ! Youha d  b e s t b e s neaking!"
    *     *  *        *      *


XCI
T hou gh Car ne gie for Li terat ur e  pr ovide,
He t ombs  a Body w hencet he Life has die d,
  A ndnoones ee ms  to  t u rna  s ing l e l eaf
Upon  t he  unfr eque n t e d  Cla ssi c si de,

XCII

Unless  to  see som e Fir st Ed itio nrare, 
Or cu rious  s tyles of Bindin g to  compare; 
 Ar t's  T rue B e liever s k now  theirAldus w e ll, 
B u t of  the Author bound,  a r e  u naware!

XCII I 
In d eed, Rar eBoo ks t h a t the y ha v eyearn'dfor lo n gHa ve done  t heir L it era ryTaste much  wrong :
  Repr intso f Burton willn ot sell to-da y 
( I me a n th e s tupid Burto n) f o r aSong ! 

XC I V

In deed,  s u ch First Editions oftbe fore
I  envi ed, but theyproved tob e a Bore.  Wh y ,a re not Tenth E ditio ns still m o re rare? 
Mine  are! Wh y are the y not wort h e ven  mo re? 
X CV

And mucha s  Art  h as play 'dthe Inf ide l
A ndrob b' d me of m y Royalt ie s- -A h,  we ll,
I oftenwo nde rwha t the WomenreadOneha lf asclevera st h e St uf fI se ll! 

XCVI 

Ye t  Ah , thatSpring sh oul d  com eto  bringour Woes!
Tha tChristmasSe aso n's Sa l e s should  ever close!
  The Book whose p rai ses l oudthe Criti c s ang,
I s n o t theone th at se ll s t h e  most , Go d k no ws!


XCVI I 
Wo uld b ut  the se Book  Reviewers ever yi e ldOne glimpse-- ifdiml y ,  y eti nd e ed,  r e vea l ' d
  Of what the  faintingTr a ve ller can r e adWo rth rea ding--b ut th e  Critic 's eyes a re seal'd .

XC V I II
Would but  some wi nged Ange l  brin g  t he Ne wsOf Cri ti c w ho _r eads_B ook s tha t he R ev iews!  And 
 one,_"Let whoso_write or buy,
My words_with long_Oblivion_are gone_dry:
_ But bind_me new, let_Christy illustrate,
Methinks I'd sell_at Christmas time;_I'll_try!"


XC

So while the Manuscripts were wisely speaking,
The Editor came in whom I was seeking:
__And then_they_signall'd_to me, "Brother! Brother!
Yours is_rejected! You had best be_sneaking!"

 _     *  __  _*       * _     *_  ___ *


XCI

Though Carnegie for_Literature provide,
He tombs a Body whence_the Life has died,
  And_no one seems to turn a single_leaf
Upon the unfrequented Classic side,


XCII

Unless to_see some First Edition rare,
Or_curious styles_of Binding to compare;
 _Art's True Believers_know their_Aldus well,
But of_the Author bound, are unaware!


XCIII

Indeed, Rare_Books that they_have yearn'd for long
Have done their_Literary_Taste much wrong:
__Reprints_of Burton_will not sell_to-day
(I_mean the_stupid_Burton) for a Song!


XCIV

Indeed, such First_Editions_oft before
I envied, but they proved to_be a Bore.
 _Why,_are not Tenth Editions_still more rare?
Mine are! Why_are they not worth even more?


XCV

And_much as_Art has_play'd the Infidel
And robb'd me of my Royalties--Ah, well,
  I_often wonder what the Women read
One_half as clever as_the Stuff_I_sell!


XCVI

Yet Ah, that_Spring_should come_to bring our Woes!
That Christmas Season's Sales_should ever_close!
  The Book whose praises_loud the Critic sang,
Is_not_the one that sells the most,_God knows!


XCVII

Would but these Book Reviewers_ever yield
One glimpse--if dimly, yet_indeed,_reveal'd
_ Of what the fainting_Traveller can read
Worth reading--but the Critic's_eyes are seal'd.


XCVIII

Would_but some winged Angel bring the News
Of_Critic_who _reads_ Books that he Reviews!
__And