Английская поэзия XIV–XX веков в современных русских переводах

What hours I spent of precious time,

What pints of ink I used to waste,

Attempting to secure a rhyme

To suit the public taste,

Until I found a simple plan

Which makes the tamest lyric scan!

When I’ve a syllable de trop,

I cut it off, without apol.:

This verbal sacrifice, I know,

May irritate the schol.;

But all must praise my dev’lish cunn.

Who realize that Time is Mon.

My sense remains as clear as cryst.,

My style as pure as any Duch.

Who does not boast a bar sinist.

Upon her fam. escutch.;

And I can treat with scornful pit.

The sneers of ev’ry captious crit.

I gladly publish to the pop.

A scheme of which I make no myst.,

And beg my fellow scribes. to cop.

This labor-saving syst.

I offer it to the consid.

Of ev’ry thoughtful individ.

The author, working like a beav.,

His readers’ pleasure could redoub.

Did he but now and then abbrev.

The work he gives his pub.

(This view I most partic. suggest

To A. C. Bens. and G. K. Chest.)

If Mr. Caine rewrote The Scape.,

And Miss Corell, condensed Barabb.,

What could they save in foolscap pape.

Did they but cult. the hab.,

Which teaches people to suppress

All syllables that are unnec.!

If playwrights would but thus dimin.

The length of time each drama takes,

(The Second Mrs. Tanq. by Pin.

or even Ham., by Shakes.)

We could maintain a watchful att.

When at a Mat. on Wed. or Sat.

Have done, ye bards, with dull monot.!

Foll. my examp., O, Stephen Phill.,

O, Owen Seam., O, William Wat.,

O, Ella Wheeler Wil.,

And share with me the grave respons.

of writing this amazing nons.!