Fate's Irony

(To J.C.B.)

Full many a year I strove with rhyme
Essaying heroic heights to climb,
And mournful deeps to sound.

Last week I scrawled some doggerel light—
My life is now all black with blight,
Ambition's on the ground.

He read that silly piece of rot,
"By Jove," he said," it's really not
Half bad; in fact," said he,

"If you make every effort, some
Fine day I'm sure you will become
A Comic poet of high degree!"
Ah me! Ah me!^*

—M.U.G.