Their roll, who spread Poesy’s spell,
Their sweetest strains heartward are borne
In Rondeau, Ballade, Villanelle;
Yet did no rival e’er excel
Their efforts in the realms o’ sang;—
The Laureate’s self bears not the bell
From Austin Dobson—Andrew Lang.
Their’s not the heaviness men spurn,
Light as the breeze in fairy dell
The flights of fancy that they turn