Reader! Walk Up at Once (it Will Soon be Too Late) and Buy at a Perfectly Ruinous Rate A Fable for Critics: Or, Better -- I Like, as a Thing that the Reader's First Fancy May Strike, an Old Fashioned Title-page, Such as Presents a Tabular View of the Volume's Contents -- A Glance at a Few of Our Literary Progenies (Mrs. Malaprop's Word) from the Tub of Diogenes; that Is, a Series of Jokes by a Wonderful Quiz, who Accompanies Himself with a Rub-a-dub-dub, Full of Spirit and Grace, on the Top of the Tub (Google eBook)
What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
American Apollo bard believe blow bores brain breeze Broadway Bull comes contrive cougar critic doubt e'en ears earth English Fable fancy feel fellow fresh friends gibbet gilt extra goes grace granite grant gratis Greek half hard hast hear heart hero hexameter hint hunt infinite John Bull keep kind laugh letters lily look lyre Mayflower metre mind Miranda Muses nature naught ne'er Neath never North Pole o'er once one's phiz Phoebus poems poet pole poor praise prose PUTNAM Quaker quiet reach readers rhyme round scarce seems shudder to think Sketch slavery slender Snooks somehow sometimes song sort soul stand stir sure t'other talks tell tender there's things Thou thought true turn Twas twere twixt Twould verse volume wait who's whole wood word Wordsworth worth write written wrong Yankee
Page 42 - All honor and praise to the right-hearted bard Who was true to The Voice when such service was hard, Who himself was so free he dared sing for the slave When to look but a protest in silence was brave...
Page 68 - There is Lowell, who's striving Parnassus to climb With a whole bale of isms tied together with rhyme, He might get on alone, spite of brambles and boulders, But he can't with that bundle he has on his shoulders, The top of the hill he will ne'er come nigh reaching...
Page 28 - A convert to nothing but Emerson. So perfect a balance there is in his head, That he talks of things sometimes as if they were dead; Life, nature, love, God, and affairs of that sort, He looks at as merely ideas; in short, As if they were fossils stuck round in a cabinet, Of such vast extent that our earth's a mere dab in it; Composed just as he is inclined to conjecture her, Namely, one part pure earth, ninety-nine parts pure lecturer...
Page 68 - t so worthy of praise As the tribute of Holmes to the grand Marseillaise. You went crazy last year over Bulwer's New Timon ; — Why, if B., to the day of his dying, should rhyme on, Heaping verses on verses and tomes upon tomes, He could ne'er reach the best point and vigor of Holmes. His are just the fine hands, too, to weave you a lyric Full of fancy, fun, feeling, or spiced with satiric In a measure so kindly, you doubt if the toes That are trodden upon are your own or your foes'.
Page 68 - I call a sham metre, But many admire it, the English pentameter, And Campbell, I think, wrote most commonly worse, With less nerve, swing, and fire in the same kind of verse, Nor e'er achieved aught in't so worthy of praise As the tribute of Holmes to the grand Marseillaise.
Page 58 - Does it make a man worse that his character 's such As to make his friends love him (as you think) too much ? Why, there is not a bard at this moment alive More willing than he that his fellows should thrive ; While you are abusing him thus, even now He would help either one of you out of a slough...
Page 41 - O leather-clad Fox? Can that be thy son, in the battle's mid din, Preaching brotherly love and then driving it in To the brain of the tough old Goliath of sin, With the smoothest of pebbles from Castaly's spring Impressed on his hard moral sense with a sling?
Page 47 - Don't suppose I would underrate Cooper's abilities; If I thought you'd do that, I should feel very ill at ease; The men who have given to one character life And objective existence are not very rife; You may number them all, both prose-writers and singers, Without overrunning the bounds of your fingers, And Natty won't go to oblivion quicker Than Adams the parson or Primrose the vicar.
Page 47 - As a cooper would do in composing a cask; He picks out the staves, of their qualities heedful, Just hoops them together as tight as is needful, And, if the best fortune should crown the attempt, he Has made at the most something wooden and empty.