Lord, pity all
Who, through death and worse,
Must dabble in meter
And potter with verse,
Who must take earth's sorrows
One at a time
And whittle them down
To a neat, small rhyme,
Who have ears to hear with
And eyes to see
And no stronger arm
Than a simile!
JOYCE MARSHALL.
Who, through death and worse,
Must dabble in meter
And potter with verse,
Who must take earth's sorrows
One at a time
And whittle them down
To a neat, small rhyme,
Who have ears to hear with
And eyes to see
And no stronger arm
Than a simile!
JOYCE MARSHALL.
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