. William De Morgan and his wife . t addressed thee. Then they allWith one accord, set up a mournful song— Go tell Miss Mulock * to ha done, and makeNight hideous with her bores no more ! And I,One other cried, was Esther SummersonIn Dickenss Bleak House, a conscious minxA mock-meek bore, a moralizing shouldst thou. Mortal, eer to earth my Author that he neer againW^rite sentiment ! She vanished and we passedOnward . . » Footnols by De Morgan. Michael Angelo appears to have misunder-stood this passage, having drawn the stoutest on the path distortedwith horror. It is a fi
. William De Morgan and his wife . t addressed thee. Then they allWith one accord, set up a mournful song— Go tell Miss Mulock * to ha done, and makeNight hideous with her bores no more ! And I,One other cried, was Esther SummersonIn Dickenss Bleak House, a conscious minxA mock-meek bore, a moralizing shouldst thou. Mortal, eer to earth my Author that he neer againW^rite sentiment ! She vanished and we passedOnward . . » Footnols by De Morgan. Michael Angelo appears to have misunder-stood this passage, having drawn the stoutest on the path distortedwith horror. It is a fine specimen of that foreshortening for which he is^remarkal:ile. * Miss D. M. Mulock (]Mrs. Craik), author of John Halifax, Gentleman,and a very large number of novels. 68 WILLIAM DE MORGAN The citroned pudding and the osseous beef seen in thecomer, No. 5, give scope for a dissertation upon Love contrastedwith the action of the insignificant Rat, who tries— To use Free Will according to Free Wont,and the poem continues—. Then in the circle twenty-fifth we moved And I my Guide bespake— O Teacher, say What yonder form betokens ? [No. 6] for beyond (One from a multitude) a fiend-rid goose With wing outspread and agonizing cry Swept oer the Vast. Then Virgil thus to me— O Son, thou seest here the fruit of Sin Most deadly, Criticism called of Art ! For yonder Goose, a critic erst on Earth Now pays the price of many an Article At which an earthly goose might well have sneered.** Then we approached, and to the bird I spake :— Wast thou of Florence ? and he No ! rephed; Of Marylebone was I. I was an Ass On Earth, and therefore am a Goose ; I wrote of what I did not understand For many penny periodicals And others. Yet, O mortal (shouldst thou eer Return to Marylebone) implore my friends Not to be horrid humbugs ! . .
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1920, bookpublishernewyo, bookyear1922
