The Smith continued: "I never pursue
Immoral readin'." And that is true:
He's a saint of remarkably high degree,
With a mind as chaste as a mind can be;
But read!--the devil a word can he!
A MILITARY INCIDENT
Dawn heralded the coming sun--
Fort Douglas was computing
The minutes--and the sunrise gun
Was manned for his saluting.
The gunner at that firearm stood,
The which he slowly loaded,
When, bang!--I know not how it could,
But sure the charge exploded!
Yes, to that veteran's surprise
The gun went off sublimely,
And both his busy arms likewise
Went off with it, untimely.
Then said that gunner to his mate
(He was from Ballyshannon):
"Bedad, the sun's a minute late,
Accardin' to this cannon!"
SUBSTANCE VERSUS SHADOW
So, gentle critics, you would have me tilt,
Not at the guilty, only just at Guilt!--
Spare the offender and condemn Offense,
And make life miserable to Pretense!
"Whip Vice and Folly--that is satire's use--
But be not personal, for _that's_ abuse;
Nor e'er forget what, 'like a razor keen,
Wounds with a touch that's neither felt nor seen.'"
Well, friends, I venture, destitute of awe,
To think that razor but an old, old saw,
A trifle rusty; and a wound, I'm sure,
That's felt not, seen not, one can well endure.
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