قراءة كتاب The Rubaiyat of Omar Cayenne

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‏اللغة: English
The Rubaiyat of Omar Cayenne

The Rubaiyat of Omar Cayenne

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
الصفحة رقم: 8

all his Brain

In writing me, to be rejected here—
I'd hate to have to be sent back again!"

LXXXV

Then said a Second—"Ne'er a Girl or Boy
Such Stuff as I am really could enjoy:
Yet He who wrote me, when I am return'd,
Will me with Curse and bitter Wrath destroy!"

LXXXVI

After a literary Silence spake
A Manuscript of Henry James's make;
"They sneer at me for being so occult:
But Kipling's found such Stuff is going to Take!"

LXXXVII

Whereat some one of the typewritten Lot—
I think it was Cy Brady's—waxing hot—
"All this of Shop and Patter—Tell me then,
Who buys—Who reads—the Stuff that boils my Pot?"

LXXXVIII

"Why," said another, "Some there are who tell
Of one who threatens he will toss to Hell
The luckless Tales he marr'd in making—Pish!
He's a blamed Fool, Any Old Thing will sell!"

LXXXIX

"Well," murmur'd one, "Let whoso write or buy,
My words with long Oblivion are gone dry:
But bind me new, let Christy illustrate,
Methinks I'd sell at Christmas time; I'll try!"

XC

So while the Manuscripts were wisely speaking,
The Editor came in whom I was seeking:
And then they signall'd to me, "Brother! Brother!
Yours is rejected! You had best be sneaking!"

*         *         *         *         *

XCI

Though Carnegie for Literature provide,
He tombs a Body whence the Life has died,
And no one seems to turn a single leaf
Upon the unfrequented Classic side,

XCII

Unless to see some First Edition rare,
Or curious styles of Binding to compare;
Art's True Believers know their Aldus well,
But of the Author bound, are unaware!

XCIII

Indeed, Rare Books that they have yearn'd for long
Have done their Literary Taste much wrong:
Reprints of Burton will not sell to-day
(I mean the stupid Burton) for a Song!

XCIV

Indeed, such First Editions oft before
I envied, but they proved to be a Bore.
Why, are not Tenth Editions still more rare?
Mine are! Why are they not worth even more?

XCV

And much as Art has play'd the Infidel
And robb'd me of my Royalties—Ah, well,
I often wonder what the Women read
One half as clever as the Stuff I sell!

XCVI

Yet Ah, that Spring should come to bring our Woes!
That Christmas Season's Sales should ever close!
The

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