Six,—Might a regular reader of The Spectator make this riming
reflection on Mr. Nicolson's " Marginal Comment " of February 25th? Six,—Might a regular reader of The Spectator make this riming reflection on Mr. Nicolson's " Marginal Comment " of February 25th?
In the Bible we read how great Jephthah of old Gave his daughter in act sacrificial,
And cried to the heavens in his grief, we are told—
And the story seems fairly official.
"But ah! " we exclaim, as exalted we read, " These were days of Divine Inspiration, And never a man to perform such a deed Could be found in our decadent nation."
But no! we are wrong, for in 1-9-4-4 A man even as Jephthah arises, A Nicolson shines his poor brethren before, Like the light that the Christian surprises.
Not his daughter—oh no!—but himself he would give In surrender sublimely aesthetic, He would cease—for the Frescoes of Giotto—to live, Though his offer's, of course, hypothetic.
'Or his sons, for St. Mark's, he would offer today With a noble disdain of emotion,
Not like Jephthah of old, whose parental dismay Appears almost unseemly commotion.
Mr. Nicolson, Sir, we salute you with pride And your exquisite feeling for Beauty, We are most of us human and simple beside, And we're not quite so sure of our Duty.
But " replaceable "! You! That idea we disclaim, We'll not think of it even for a moment ; We would die, Sir, like you—not for Frescoes of fame, But for Nicolson's Marginal Comment !
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