是的，写吧，如果你想写，没有什么比尝试更好的了;谁知道你的棺材里装的是什么宝贝?我会告诉你，押韵就像撒谎一样简单，如果你愿意听我讲述我的艺术。这是一本充满文字的书;一个人可以随心所欲地选择他喜欢的颜料，一个画家可以选择他喜欢的颜料，一个工匠可以选择他喜欢的工具;只是觉得!所有的诗歌、戏剧和浪漫故事都是从这里引出来的，就像从池塘里出来的鱼一样!你可以随意在它的音节迷宫中漫步，想要什么就拿什么，不需要一个铜板，——有什么能阻碍你为《失乐园》这样一部巧妙的史诗挑选词句呢?不要介意语感指数为零，使用流畅的词汇，不管它们的意思是什么;利安德，莉莲和利利布雷洛在押韵机里是一样的。 There are words so delicious their sweetness will smother That boarding-school flavor of which we're afraid, There is "lush"is a good one, and "swirl" is another,-- Put both in one stanza, its fortune is made. With musical murmurs and rhythmical closes You can cheat us of smiles when you've nothing to tell You hand us a nosegay of milliner's roses, And we cry with delight, "Oh, how sweet they do smell!" Perhaps you will answer all needful conditions For winning the laurels to which you aspire, By docking the tails of the two prepositions I' the style o' the bards you so greatly admire. As for subjects of verse, they are only too plenty For ringing the changes on metrical chimes; A maiden, a moonbeam, a lover of twenty Have filled that great basket with bushels of rhymes. Let me show you a picture--'t is far from irrelevant-- By a famous old hand in the arts of design; 'T is only a photographed sketch of an elephant,-- The name of the draughtsman was Rembrandt of Rhine. How easy! no troublesome colors to lay on, It can't have fatigued him,-- no, not in the least,-- A dash here and there with a haphazard crayon, And there stands the wrinkled-skinned, baggy-limbed beast. Just so with your verse,-- 't is as easy as sketching,-- You can reel off a song without knitting your brow, As lightly as Rembrandt a drawing or etching; It is nothing at all, if you only know how. Well; imagine you've printed your volume of verses: Your forehead is wreathed with the garland of fame, Your poems the eloquent school-boy rehearses, Her album the school-girl presents for your name; Each morning the post brings you autograph letters; You'll answer them promptly,-- an hour isn't much For the honor of sharing a page with your betters, With magistrates, members of Congress, and such. Of course you're delighted to serve the committees That come with requests from the country all round, You would grace the occasion with poems and ditties When they've got a new schoolhouse, or poorhouse, or pound. With a hymn for the saints and a song for the sinners, You go and are welcome wherever you please; You're a privileged guest at all manner of dinners, You've a seat on the platform among the grandees. At length your mere presence becomes a sensation, Your cup of enjoyment is filled to its brim With the pleasure Horatian of digitmonstration, As the whisper runs round of "That's he!" or "That's him!" But remember, O dealer in phrases sonorous, So daintily chosen, so tunefully matched, Though you soar with the wings of the cherubim o'er us, The ovum was human from which you were hatched. No will of your own with its puny compulsion Can summon the spirit that quickens the lyre; It comes, if at all, like the Sibyl's convulsion And touches the brain with a finger of fire. So perhaps, after all, it's as well to he quiet If you've nothing you think is worth saying in prose, As to furnish a meal of their cannibal diet To the critics, by publishing, as you propose. But it's all of no use, and I'm sorry I've written,-- I shall see your thin volume some day on my shelf; For the rhyming tarantula surely has bitten, And music must cure you, so pipe it yourself.