To G. M. W. And G. F. W.

I     Whenas, (I love that whenas word,     It shows I am a poet, too,)     Q. Horace Flaccus gaily stirred     The welkin with his tra-la-loo,     He little thought one donkeys back     Would carry thus a double load,     Father and son upon one jack,     Galumphing down the Tibur Road. II     Old is the tale, Aesops, I think,     Of that famed miller and his son     Whose fortunes were so on the blink     They had one donk, and only one;     You know the tale, the critics squawk     (As pater that poor ass bestrode),     Selfish! To make thy fine son walk!     Perhaps that was on Tibur Road? III     You will recall how dad got down     And made the son the ass bestride:     The critics shouted with a frown:     Shame, boy! pray let thy father ride!     Up got the dad beside the son;     The donkey staggered with the load     Poor donk! For shame! cried every one     That walked the (was it?) Tibur Road. IV     You know the end! Upon their backs     Daddy and son with much ado     Boosted that most surprised of jacks,     He kicked, and off the bridge he flew;     He! haw! A splash! A gurgling sound,     A long, last watery abode,     In Anios stream the donk was drowned,     (If this occurred on Tibur Road.) V     Let Donkey represent the Odes;     The Miller represent G. M.;     The Son stand for G. F.; the loads     Of Critics, I will do for them.     Now, then, this proposition made,     (And my bum verses Ahd and Ohd!).     What Q. E. D. can be displayed     Anent this On the Tibur Road? VI     First, Horrys dead and he dont care,     So cancel him, and let him snore;     His Donkey has been raised in air     So oft hes tough and calloused oer;     Our Miller, dusty-headed man,     Follows the best donk-boosting code:     Our Son, dispute it no one can,     Sings gaily down the Tibur Road. VII     This, then, must be this Critics scream:     The donk was boosted well and high,     And, ergo! falling in the stream,     Isnt and aint and cant be dry;     Nor is your book. Which is to say     It is no gloomy episode,     Youve made a dead donk sweetly bray,     And joyful is the Tibur Road.