My desk is cleared of the litter of ages;
Before me glitter the fair white pages;
My fountain pen is clean and filled,
And the noise of the office has long been stilled.
Rogets Thesaurus is at my hand,
And Im ready to do some work thats grand,
Dignified, eminent, great, momentous,
Memorable, worthy of note, portentous,
Beautiful, paramount, vital, prime,
Stirring, eventful, august, sublime.
For this is the way, I have read and heard,
That authors look for the fitting word.
All of the proud ingredients mine
To build, like Marlowe, the mighty line.
But never a line from my new-filled pen
That couldnt be done by a child of ten.
Oh, how did Shelley and how did Keats
Weave magic words on the fair white sheets
Under conditions that, were they mine,
I couldnt bear? And Id just resign.
Yet Milton wrote passable literature
Under conditions I couldnt endure.
Coleridge and Chatterton did their stuff
Over a road that Id christen rough.
Wordsworth andsoft!could it be that they
Waited until they had something to say?
Bricks And Straw
written byFranklin Pierce Adams
© Franklin Pierce Adams