ABSTRACT
Nothing stamps the poetaster so irretrievably as his perpetual fear of using a vulgar word. If he cannot avoid vulgarity save by forethought and introspective solicitude, he will never avoid it at all. Here is the text to our comment, being part of the famous lion-cub simile, as Mr. Browning has it:
And thus a man, by no milk’s help, Within his household reared a lion’s whelp That loved the teat In life’s first festal stage: Gentle as yet. A true child-lover, and, to men of age, A thing whereat pride warms; And oft he had it in his arms Like any new-born babe, bright-faced, to hand Wagging its tail, at belly’s strict command.
