The Bard proved hard, Poe was woe
And Wilde’s wit assailed
Upon the balladry of Wordsworth
I set forth with pen and sailed
Bloomfield inked the joys of farming
Shelly’s nature…quite disarming
Browning’s “Meeting” oh so charming!
Tragic, Magic, Toil, Fun
Yet I shall ne’er be Dicken’s son
Perchance one day to meet Dickenson
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