The second stanza of this poem is an anagram of the first:
A girl once kept a tiny sheep,
Widely famed for whiteness:
This pet would dog her every step,
No certain sign of brightness.
‘Twas viewed, the pest, one day in class
By impish children there;
Kids laugh to see pets, goofing off,
Weren’t trying — open, err!
(Colin Rose)Lord David Cecil called Samuel Johnson “an outstanding example of the charm that comes from an unexpected combination of qualities. In general, odd people are not sensible and sensible people are not odd. Johnson was both and often both at the same time.”
Palindromes submitted by correspondent Henry Campkin to Notes and Queries in 1873:
A milksop jilted by his lass, or wandering in his wits,
Might murmer STIFF, O DAIRYMAN, IN A MYRIAD OF FITS!
A limner, by Photography dead beat in competition,
Thus grumbled: NO IT IS OPPOSED, ART SEES TRADE’S OPPOSITION!
A nonsense-loving nephew might his soldier-uncle dun,
With NOW STOP, MAJOR GENERAL, ARE NEGRO JAM POTS WON?
A supercilious grocer, if inclined that way, might snub
A child with, BUT RAGUSA STORE, BABE, ROTS A SUGAR TUB!
Thy sceptre, Alexander, is a fortress, cried Hephaestion:
Great A. said, NO, IT’S A BAR OF GOLD, A BAD LOG FOR A BASTION!
A timid creature fearing rodents — mice and such small fry —
STOP, SYRIAN, I START AT RATS IN AIRY SPOTS, might cry.
A simple soul, whose wants are few, might say, with hearty zest,
DESSERTS I DESIRE NOT, SO LONG NO LOST ONE RISE DISTRESSED.
A stern Canadian parent might — in earnest, not in fun —
Exclaim, NO SOT NOR OTTAWA LAW AT TORONTO, SON!
A crazy dentist might declare, as something strange or new,
That PAGET SAW AN IRISH TOOTH, SIR, IN A WASTE GAP! True!
A surly student, hating sweets, might answer with élan;
NAME TARTS, NO, MEDIEVAL SLAVE, I DEMONSTRATE MAN!
He who in Nature’s bitters, findeth sweet food every day,
EUREKA! TILL I PULL UP ILL I TAKE RUE, well might say.
“Dr. Johnson has somewhere said that there are many things difficult to accomplish, and which, when accomplished, are not worth the labour expended upon them. Sage correspondents of ‘N. & Q.,’ after scanning the above, will doubtless concur in opinion with the sententious old Moralizer.”
In 1999, a letter in New Scientist noted that randomizing letters in the middle of words has little or no effect on readers’ ability to understand text. Noam D. Plum responded with a poem:
The suggetsoin taht chrilden slhuod laern how to sepll
Is a tmie-watse we ohgut to rjeect.
Sicne a jlumbe of leertts raeds pertlecfy wlel
If the frist and the lsat are crrocet.
Wehn an edtoir grembuls, “Yuor seplinlg is ntus!”
Wtih cntoempt he can braley cocneal,
Trehe is no cuase to flcnih; mkae no ifs adns or btus;
Say, “I’ts radnom, sir. Wa’hts the big dael?”
In tihs fsat-minvog wrold, waht we raed dseon’t sictk.
Olny vrey few deliats get strsseed.
If i’ts frsit or it’s lsat we may glncae at it qucik.
Woh’s got tmie to be raenidg the rset?
(Noam D. Plum, “Prepopr Splelnig,” Verbatim 32:1 [Spring 2008], 15. See Half Measures.)
insessor
n. one who sits in or on
Two perceptive entries from the journals of English naturalist Gilbert White:
“December 4, 1770 – Most owls seem to hoot exactly in B flat according to several pitch-pipes used in tuning of harpsichords, & sold as strictly at concert pitch.”
“February 8, 1782 – Venus shadows very strongly, showing the bars of the windows on the floors & walls.”
Between these he makes what may be the earliest written use of the word golly, in 1775.
Notable expressions of dismay made by Panurge during a tempest at sea in Gargantua and Pantagruel:
Ughughbubbubughsh!
Augkukshw!
Bgshwogrbuh!
Abubububugh!
Bububbububbubu! boo-hoo-hoo-hoo!
Ubbubbughschwug!
Ubbubbugshwuplk!
ubbubbubbughshw
bubbubughshwtzrkagh!
Alas, alas! ubbubbubbugh! bobobobobo! bubububuss!
Ubbubbughsh! Grrrshwappughbrdub!
Bubububbugh! boo-hoo-hoo!
Ubbubbubbugh! Grrwh! Upchksvomitchbg!
Ububbubgrshlouwhftrz!
Ubbubbububugh! ugg! ugg!
Ubbubbubbugh! Boo-hoo-hoo!
“My personal favorite, however, is the incredible-sounding ‘Wagh, a-grups-grrshwahw!’,” writes wordplay enthusiast Trip Payne. “Aside from its logological interest (eight consecutive consonants, albeit divided by a hyphen), the word simply does not sound anything like a wail could possibly sound. The ingenuity of Panurge to come up with such a fresh-sounding, imaginative exclamation — particularly under such pressure — is awe-inspiring.” (All these expressions are from Jacques Leclercq’s 1936 translation.)
(Trip Payne, “‘Alas, Alack!’ Revisited,” Word Ways 22:1 [February 1989], 34-35.)
David Morice posed this puzzle in the February 1989 issue of Word Ways. The following sentence is such a thicket of interrupting clauses that it’s difficult to divine its meaning. Who is accused, what’s the verdict, what are the crimes, and what’s the real name of the real criminal? “Let’s see you unChandler this one!”
Big Mike, when Susan, without whom he, whose rugged jaw, as he muttered, “Why did you, who committed, after you changed your name, though nobody –” but he paused, while he glared at her, even though Melissa thought, which seemed immaterial, for the courtroom, where the judge, before the verdict, whether Big Mike was guilty, though Melissa, since Ted no longer, however she, when Big Mike, because she blamed him, while the cops, who trusted, although they sensed, until Detective Jennings, against his better judgment, fell in love with the lady, her guilt, her innocence, held him at gunpoint, for her bank robbery, was picked up, played her cards, wanted to buy diamonds for her, murdered him with a dagger, or framed, could be decided, heard Susan’s surprise testimony, was packed with an angry mob, to the prosecuting attorney, of Ted as her real lover, in the witness stand, to catch his breath, “– seems to realize, from Melissa to Joyce, both crimes, lay your rap on me?” under his breath, was clenched bitterly, wouldn’t have been arrested, fingered him, was found guilty!
Corresponding with the Daily Mail in 1933, Compton Mackenzie presented two lists of the 10 most beautiful words in English. The first was phrased in blank verse:
Carnation, azure, peril, moon, forlorn,
Heart, silence, shadow, April, apricot.
The second was an Alexandrine couplet:
Damask and damson, doom and harlequin and fire,
Autumnal, vanity, flame, nectarine, desire.
In his 1963 autobiography he said that these lists had a “strange magic for me … a sort of elixir of youth.” See Euphony and Poetry Piecemeal.