Explore "The Scarlet Gown: THE BANISHED BEJANT FROM THE UNPUBLISHED REMAINS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE" by Robert Fuller Murray on Textopian.
Ah yes, we know what you're saying, / As your eye glances over these Notes: / 'What asses are these that are braying / With flat and unmusical throats? / Who writes such unspeakable patter? / Is it lunatics, idiots -- or who?' / And you think there is 'something the matter.' / Well, we think so too.
We have sat, full of sickness and sorrow, / As the hours dragged heavily on, / Till the midnight has merged into morrow, / And the darkness is going or gone. / We are Editors. Give us the credit / Of meaning to do what we could; / But, since there is nothing to edit, / It isn't much good.