Explore "The Oubit" by Charles Kingsley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It was an hairy oubit, sae proud he crept alang, / A feckless hairy oubit, and merrily he sang -- / 'My Minnie bad me bide at hame until I won my wings; / I show her soon my soul's aboon the warks o' creeping things.'
This feckless hairy oubit cam' hirpling by the linn, / A swirl o' wind cam' doun the glen, and blew that oubit in: / Oh when he took the water, the saumon fry they rose, / And tigg'd him a' to pieces sma', by head and tail and toes.
Tak' warning then, young poets a', by this poor oubit's shame; / Though Pegasus may nicher loud, keep Pegasus at hame.
Oh haud your hands frae inkhorns, though a' the Muses woo; / For critics lie, like saumon fry, to mak' their meals o' you.
Eversley, 1851.