THE PLACE OF THE IDIOT
ὁ ἀναπληρῶν τὸν τόπον τοῦ ἰδιώτου
Monday, March 29, 2021
Your brains were a noddle before they were a noodle
Poor slaves in metre, dull and addle-pated,
Who rhyme below even David's psalms translated.
Thus far the poet; but his brains grow addle:
And all the rest is purely from this noddle.
-- John Dryden
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