A BALLADE OF A BOOK-REVIEWER

I have not read a rotten page

Of “Sex-Hate” or “The Social Test,”

And here comes “Husks” and “Heritage”....

O Moses, give us all a rest!

“Ethics of Empire”!... I protest

I will not even cut the strings,

I'll read “Jack Redskin on the Quest”

And feed my brain with better things.

Somebody wants a Wiser Age

( He also wants me to invest );

Somebody likes the Finnish Stage

Because the Jesters do not jest;

And grey with dust is Dante's crest,

The bell of Rabelais soundless swings;

And the winds come out of the west

And feed my brain with better things.

Lord of our laughter and our rage.

Look on us with our sins oppressed!

I, too, have trodden mine heritage,

Wickedly wearying of the best.

Burn from my brain and from my breast

Sloth, and the cowardice that clings,

And stiffness and the soul's arrest:

And feed my brain with better things.

Prince, you are host and I am guest,

Therefore I shrink from cavillings....

But I should have that fizz suppressed

And feed my brain with better things.