To The Author Of A Sonnet, Beginning, '"Sad Is My Verse," You Say, "And Yet No Tear"'

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Thy verse is 'sad' enough, no doubt:
  A devilish deal more sad than witty!
Why we should weep I can't find out,
  Unless for thee we weep in pity.

Yet there is one I pity more;
  And much, alas! I think he needs it;
For he, I'm sure, will suffer sore,
  Who, to his own misfortune, reads it.

Thy rhymes, without the aid of magic,
  May once be read - but never after:
Yet their effect's by no means tragic,
  Although by far too dull for laughter.

But would you make our bosoms bleed,
  And of no common pang complain -
If you would make us weep indeed,
  Tell us, you'll read them o'er again.

March 8, 1807

© George Gordon Byron