Thomas James Judkin

(Craving the Critic’s Notice)

GENTLE, it is my wont, when newly writ

A sonnet, madrigal, or ode, to show

The same to Emily, that I may know

By her sweet face (taste’s dial) if in it

Be aught unworthy of a poet’s fit;

And with the knittings of her altered brow,

Or with the playful smiles that come and go,

I hold no parle, but instantly commit,

Or not, such brain-work to the flames. Thus, Sir,

I now beseech, in Courtesy’s good name,

Where there is need thou wilt but gently blame,

Seeing that half the fault belongs to her;

Yet speak thy best praise freely when ’t is due,

Since one kind word for her, to me is two.