Here you will find thePoemPhasellus Illeof poet Ezra Pound
1 his papier-mâché, which you see, my friends, Saith 'twas the worthiest of editors. Its mind was made up in 'the seventies', Nor hath it ever since changed that concoction. It works to represent that school of thought Which brought the hair-cloth chair to such perfection, Nor will the horrid threats of Bernard Shaw Shake up the stagnant pool of its convictions; Nay, should the deathless voice of all the world Speak once again for its sole stimulation, Twould not move it one jot from left to right. Come Beauty barefoot from the Cyclades, She'd find a model for St. Anthony In this thing's sure decorum and behaviour.
