54 THE FLY AND THE POET. 



the Fly defunct, the fly -leaf burned, the manuscript burned 

 too, to bring back to its author's mind, had it been ever absent, 

 that notable era when his second grand Epic was completed. 

 There he sat, like the distressed Poet of the "Moral Painter," 

 like him might have "plunged for his thought," and like him 

 have "found no bottom there," only that to save diving, he 

 seized the lightsome object brought vividly to remembrance, 

 with all its heavy associations, by the scene, the hour, and the 

 weather. In short, he caught again that villain Fly, and com- 

 mitted him, in the following strain, once more to paper : 



THE FLY AND THE POET. 



Dark were the cares of the Poet's breast, 

 Grand were the thoughts of his head, 



But sad thoughts and grand ones must all be represt, 

 For he had to write nonsense for bread. 



Proud was the curl on the Poet's lip, 



And big was the tear in his eye ; 

 Scarce he saw hi the inkstand his pen to dip, 



But he saw on its summit a Fly. 



There Blue-bottle sat, and stroked down his face, 

 "With a twirl of his head, twice or thrice, 



Then says he, " Brother bard I pity your case 

 " And have brought you a bit of advice. 



" Nay, man, never wince ! I heed not your scorn, 

 "'Tis a fact, and I'll presently show it, 



" That if not, as you think yourself, Poet born, 

 "I'm by place and by feeding a Poet. 



