Explore "The Naughty Man; or, Sir Thomas Brown" by Frank Chapman Bliss on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Once on a time, not many days ago, / When many taught there was no hell below, / Not in the spring, or lovely month of May, / When birds did sweetly sing, and fields look'd gay, / When flowers were fresh, and opening buds were fair, / When brides look'd lovely -- blossoms in their hair; / Oh, no! 'twas the last day of dying year, / A raw, cold winter's day, frosty and clear; / What then took place, permit me to rehearse, / Not in stale prose, but in more lively verse; / And if, perchance, to make complete a rhyme, / Or try to make a jingling couplet chime, / I should speak boldly -- but, of course, sincere -- / Don't think the truth I utter too severe; / And do not say -- "thou little groveling elf, / Turn thine eyes inward -- look upon thyself." / Most flattering words from eager lips may fly, / But shall I pause to harmonize a lie? / If, with my pen, I use most comic art, / To 'mend the manners, or reform the heart, / Don't think I do it out of any spite; / Surely! I would not libel one, a mite.
I use fictitious names -- the facts I give / In a mild form, to save the sensitive.