“Which now is better– Pure reason or rhyme, A man of letters, Or a keeper of time? His meaning covered In worthless doggerel, Is undiscovered In his foggerel. Reason is active, But rhyme is a ruse, A silly distractive No one should use. Give to the reader The unadorned facts, In timely order With logic exact, Without delusion On premise and precept, Drawing conclusions We all should accept. So pound in a nail, And mind the gap, Now ration the ale For the mindless sap.” “Now see here!” says Rhyme. “I’m starting to tire. You’ve taken […]
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