Obviousness, pathos, dully rendered
Add to scores of verses tendered,
As a gift -- or as a curse --
In the hopes it could be verse.
Ego-swollen, odes diurnal
Fill the pages of this journal,
Bright as any road-killed ferret,
Free of poetry, and merit.
But, dear reader, ' tis still true
There-- but for your brains-- go you!


Anthony Hobbledy-Snatch
Verses from Lying Very Still
Punkton-on-Rye, 1927