The Great War

from War: an Ode And Other Poems, an electronic edition

To a Lady who Sent Verses to Correct

Published in "Punch"

ERRATIC the metre,

And errant the rhyme;

The form might be neater,

And feater the time.

And yet thy sweet verses could hardly be sweeter,

Though polished the metre,

And perfect the rhyme.

I will not correct them

As though they were prose,

To carve and dissect them

Were rending a rose.

Thy charm and thy beauty preserve and protect them,

I will not correct them

As if they were prose.