With his keen sardonic smiling, every other care beguiling,
Right and left he bravely wielded a double-edged and broad claymore,
And with gallant presence dashing, 'mid his confrères stoutly clashing,
He unpityingly went slashing, as he keenly scanned them o'er,
And with eye and mien undaunted, such a gallant presence bore, As might awe them, evermore.
Neither rank nor station heeding, with his foes around him bleeding,
Sternly, singly and alone, his course he kept upon that floor;
While the countless foes attacking, neither strength nor valor lacking,
On his goodly armour hacking, wrought no change his visage o'er,
As with high and honest aim, he still his falchion proudly bore, Resisting error, evermore.
This opinion of a contemporary journalist on Poe's non-respect, in his critical capacity, of persons, was speedily followed by several other parodies of more or less interest. The Evening Mirror for May 30th, 1845, contained one entitled The Whippoorwill, the citation of one stanza of which will, doubtless, suffice for "most readers:
