Bert Leston Taylor

Bert Leston Taylor (November 13, 1866 – March 19, 1921) was an American columnist, humorist, poet, and author. Taylor was widely recognized for his witty and humorous writing style, which earned him a place among popular American writers of his time. He contributed regularly to well-known periodicals and is remembered for his column 'A Line o' Type or Two'. Taylor's legacy endures through his clever use of language and his influence on early 20th-century American literature.

November 13, 1866

March 19, 1921

English

Bert Leston Taylor

Bygones

Or ever a lick of Art was done,
    Or ever a one to care,
I was a Purple Polygon,
    And you were a Sky-Blue Square.

You yearned for me across a void,
    For I lay in a different plane,
I'd set my heart on a Red Rhomboid,
    And your sighing was in vain.

You pined for me as well I knew,
    And you faded day by day,
Until the Square that was heavenly Blue,
    Had paled to an ashen grey.

A myriad years or less or more,
    Have softly fluttered by,
Matters are much as they were before,
    Except 'tis I that sigh.

I yearn for you, but I have no chance,
    You lie in a different plane,
I break my heart for a single glance,
    And I break said heart in vain.

And ever I grow more pale and wan,
  ...

Bert Leston Taylor

Farewell

Provoked By Calverley's "Forever"


"Farewell!" Another gloomy word
    As ever into language crept.
'Tis often written, never heard,
            Except

In playhouse. Ere the hero flits,
    In handcuffs, from our pitying view.
"Farewell!" he murmurs, then exits
            R. U.

"Farewell" is much too sighful for
    An age that has not time to sigh.
We say, "I'll see you later," or
            "Good by!"

When, warned by chanticleer, you go
    From her to whom you owe devoir,
"Say not 'good by,'" she laughs, "but
            'Au Revoir!'"

Thus from the garden are you sped;
    And Juliet were the first to tell
You, you were silly if you said
            "Farewell!"

"Farewell," meant long ago, b...

Bert Leston Taylor

Old Stuff

If I go to see the play,
    Of the story I am certain;
Promptly it gets under way
    With the lifting of the curtain.
Builded all that's said and done
    On the ancient recipe -
'Tis the same old Two and One:
    A and B in love with C.

If I read the latest book,
    There's the mossy situation;
One may confidently look
    For the trite triangulation.
Old as time, but ever new,
    Seemingly, this tale of Three -
Same old yarn of One and Two:
    A and C in love with B.

If I cast my eyes around,
    Far and near and middle distance,
Still the formula is found
    In our everyday existence.
Everywhere I look I see -
    Fact or fiction, life or play -
Still the little game of Three:
    B and C...

Bert Leston Taylor

Post-Impressionism
I cannot tell you how I love
The canvases of Mr. Dove,
Which Saturday I went to see
In Mr. Thurber's gallery.

At first you fancy they are built
As patterns for a crazy quilt,
But soon you see that they express
An ambient simultaneousness.

This thing which you would almost bet
Portrays a Spanish omelette,
Depicts instead, with wondrous skill,
A horse and cart upon a hill.

Now, Mr. Dove has too much art
To show the horse or show the cart;
Instead, he paints the creak and strain,
Get it? No pike is half as plain.

This thing which would appear to show
A fancy vest scenario,
Is really quite another thing,
A flock of pigeons on the wing.

But Mr. Dove is much too keen
To let a single bird be seen;
Bert Leston Taylor