Huh!

My poetry is better, is best
You can use it for pleasure
To feather your nest
To keep out the cold winds
The blow from the North
Which rattle you blinds
And leave you bereft
Of warmth and sanity
Drive you quite daft
As daft as Old Amos
Sitting there by the hob
Mumbling poesy,
And failing the job.

   --Eldwin Cuthwright Bland IV (Lord Darnettall), Pomes Never Fall Far From The Tree (London: Richard Head Publisher, 1784).