Scorching My Seared Heart With A Pain,

And Much Of Madness, And More Of Sin, And Horror The Soul Of The Plot.

Whether People Grow Fat By Joking, Or Whether There Is Something In Fat Itself Which Predisposes To A Joke, I Have Never Been Quite Able To Determine.

I Became Insane, With Long Intervals Of Horrible Sanity.

Let Us Dismiss, As Irrelevant To The Poem Per Se, The Circumstance ... Which, In The First Place, Gave Rise To The Intention Of Composing A Poem That Should Suit At Once The Popular And The Critical Taste.

The True Genius Shudders At Incompleteness.