To A Certain Critic

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Title:     To A Certain Critic
Author: George MacDonald [More Titles by MacDonald]

Such guests as you, sir, were not in my mind
When I my homely dish with care designed;
'Twas certain humble souls I would have fed
Who do not turn from wholesome milk and bread:
You came, slow-trotting on the narrow way,
O'erturned the food, and trod it in the clay;
Then low with discoid nostrils sniffing curt,
Cried, "Sorry cook! why, what a mess of dirt!"

[The end]
George MacDonald's poem: To A Certain Critic

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