The Poet and His Gift

THE beauty of my land, and that of my lady,
Are past belief, sang the poet with genuine fervor.
His character was, however, a trifle shady,
And he died in a pub from the blow of a life-preserver.
This does not detract from the excellence of his gift,
Which the critics all declared was purely lyrical;
But his land and his lady were better off with him biffed,
And that nobody biffed him before is a positive miracle.