Let bygones be bygones, the past be the past;
We live in the world of to-day, and at last
Society calls for less noise, more decorum,
Remarks less akin to the street than the forum;
Nay, mounting in civilization still higher,
The bard soon must go—perhaps even the lyre!
And if things should be ever at sixes and sevens,
There lies an appeal to his Honor Judge Devens.[1]
And what, do you ask, is this tirade about?
Why not, as in Hunting the Snark, “leave that out”?