Classic Poem

That Irish blatherskite, rude Bernard Shaw,
Whose ruffian pen dread Shakspeare dar'd attack.
Whose greatest strength in letters is guffaw
Who as a playwright stands a stark naked quack
This bog-born, bog-trotter I now denounce —
Dropt on a windy day amidst the peat —
His plays of action have not got one ounce
They're dialogues, merely, more or less neat.
Of poetry or passion Shaw's as devoid
As is the ordinary pawnbroker.
A mere Grub-Street critic he should avoid
Aught more artistic than the role of joker.
You carp at Shakspeare, you shock-headed lout!
Before I've done, I'll turn you inside out.