human
But he who measures as he goes A mongrel kind of tinkling prose, And is too frugal to dispense At once both poetry and sense,-- Who, from amidst his slumbering guards, Deals out a charge to subject bards, Where couplets after couplets creep, Propitious to the reign of sleep,
gpt
Prophecy of Famine,
human
A form, by silken smile, and tone Dull and unvaried, for the Laureate known, Folly's chief friend, Decorum's eldest son, In every party found, and yet of none, This airy substance, this substantial shade.
gpt
Some such draught... As makes a Whitehead's ode go down, Or slakes the feverette of Brown.
human
The laurel worn By poets in old time, but destined now In grief to wither on a Whitehead's brow,