When, on a novel’s newly printed page
   We find a maudlin eulogy of sin,
   And read of ways that harlots wander in,
And of sick souls that writhe in helpless rage;
Or when Romance, bespectacled and sage,
   Taps on her desk and bids the class begin
   To con the problems that have always been
Perplexed mankind’s unhappy heritage;
Then in what robes of honor habited
   The laureled wizard of the North appears!
Who raised Prince Charlie’s cohorts from the dead,
   Made Rose’s mirth and Flora’s noble tears,
And formed that shining legion at whose head
   Rides Waverley, triumphant o’er the years!

Webpage © 2001 ELC
Lane Core Jr. (lane@elcore.net)
Created April 3, 2001; not revised.