Tennyson's--_The Poet_--was in fourteen verses of four lines each; it commenced thus:-- "The poet in a golden clime was born, With golden stars above; Dower'd with the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn, The love of love." "He saw thro' life and death, thro' good and ill, He saw thro' his own soul. The marvel of the everlasting will, An open scroll," "Before him lay; with echoing feet he threaded The secretest walks of fame: The viewless arrows of his thoughts were headed And wing'd with flame." The following parody, which appeared in _Punch_, was _apropos_ of the poetry of the so-called "Fleshly School," and very closely follows the diction of the original:-- THE POET (OF THE PERIOD). _With Punch's apologies for the application of noble Stanzas to an ignoble subject._ The Poet in a dismal clime was born, With lurid stars above; Dower'd with a taste for hate, a love for scorn, A scorn for love. He glanced through life and death, through good and ill, He glanced through his own soul; And found all dead as a dishonoured bill, Or emptied bowl. He thrummed his lay; with mincing feet he threaded The walks of coterie fame: On the dull arrows of his thought were threaded _Concetti_ tame And pop-gun pellets from his lisping tongue, Erratic in their flight, From studio to drawing-room he flung, Filling with light And mazèd phantasies each morbid mind, Which, albeit lacking wit, Like dandelion seeds blown by the wind, In weak souls lit, Took shallow root, and springing up anew Where'er they dropt, behold, Like to the parent plant in semblance, grew A weed as bold, And fitly furnished all abroad to fling Fresh mockeries of truth, And throng with poisonous blooms the verdant Spring Of weak-kneed youth. Till many minds were lit with borrowed beams Of an unwholesome fire; And many fed their sick souls with hot dreams Of vague desire. Thus trash was multiplied on trash; the world Like a Gehenna glowed, And through the clouds of Stygian dark upcurled, Foul radiance flowed; And Licence lifted in that false sunrise Her bold and brazen brow; While Purity before her burning eyes Melted like snow. There was red blood upon her trailing robes, Lit by those lurid skies; And round the hollow circles of the globes Of her hot eyes, And on her robe's hem, "FOLLY" showed in flames With "PHRENSY," names to shake Coherency and sense--misleading names-- And when she spake,