LINES TO “CENSOR.”

Auckland Examiner, Volume IV, Issue 274, 20 June 1860, Page 3

LINES TO “CENSOR.”

“ I’d rather hear a brazen candlestick turn'd. Or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree, And that would nothing set my teeth on edge, Nothing so much as mincing poetry.’’ Shaksyeare. Alasf poor Censor, Devoid of sense, or You'd ne'er attempt to write such stuff. That you’re a poet, Your readers know it, Yet I've been asked—Who is the muff? And as a friend Your lines aie penn’d, The’ your verses contradict each other;. You say you know not Who I am, or what; In vain you try the truth to smother. Let truth and justice Be your practice, When next your verses at me you level; Try if you can Write like a man ; Tell truth and shame the Devil. Spare thy tender brains, ’Tis well worth thy pains, Tho’ in cultivation they’ll require much care ; Son of the muse ! Praj’ don't abuse Such wit as thine, so rich and rare. Tho' many are your woes, You seem not of the foes, Which you say are hundreds three; Oh, ifyou could, I’m sure you would— T ransport, me quickly off to sea. Tho’ no clairvoyant, Your pen is buoyant, And such to make your readers see, You are not lazy, But only crazy, Your poetry in print to be. When next you write, Do not, for spite, At me pen every stanza ; For if you do, I hope that you, May catch the influenza, Now I have done ; I like, for fun, To read your lines, a fact 'tis ; Tho’ when seen, They look so green ! But perhaps 'tis want of practice. D. J. R.