They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon.
—Edward Lear, “The Owl and the Pussycat”
What’s most beautiful about this is not only how it sounds, but that it casts a pleasing effect even though “runcible” doesn’t mean anything. (Oddly enough, if you look it up at dictionary.com, you can see them simply repeating an old definition someone made up ex post facto—one that is almost certainly wrong.)
Last week: Derek Walcott on the individual voice.
Next week: Yeats returns for St. Patrick’s Day.
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