In short, the maxim for the amorous tribe is
Horatian, "Medio tu tutissimus ibis."[337]
XVIII.
The "tu" 's too much,—but let it stand,—the verse
Requires it, that's to say, the English rhyme,
And not the pink of old hexameters;
But, after all, there's neither tune nor time
In the last line, which cannot well be worse,[GK]
And was thrust in to close the octave's chime:
I own no prosody can ever rate it