'Tis very comforting to know That every other day or so A Book by Bennett will appear To charm the Western Hemisphere. I see him now, with zeal sublime, Pounding from dawn to dinner-time...
The very name of Bernard Shaw Fills me with mingled Mirth and Awe. Mixture of Mephistopheles, Don Quixote, and Diogenes, The Devil's wit, the Don's Romance Joined to the Cynic's arrogance....
Now Time the harvester surveys His sorry crops of yesterdays; Of trampled hopes and reaped regrets, And for another harvest whets His ancient scythe, eying the while...