Reason

There are three rules for writing the novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are.
W. Somerset Maugham

Rhyme

Ozymandias
Percy Bysshe Shelley, 1792-1822

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shatter'd visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamp'd on these lifeless things,
The hand that mock'd them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal these words appear:
My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

Reason

I love being a writer. What I can't stand is the paperwork.
Peter de Vries

Rhyme

On a Favourite Cat, Drowned in a Tub of Goldfishes
Thomas Gray, 1736-1771

'Twas on a lofty vase's side
Where China's gayest art had dyed
The azure flowers that blow,
Demurest of the tabby kind
The pensive Selima, reclined,
Gazed on the lake below.

Her conscious tail her joy declared:
The fair round face, the snowy beard,
The velvet of her paws,
Her coat that with the tortoise vies,
Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes -
She saw, and purr'd applause.

Still had she gazed, but 'midst the tide
Two angel forms were seen to glide,
The Genii of the stream:
Their scaly armour's Tyrian hue
Through richest purple, to the view
Betray'd a golden gleam

The hapless Nymph with wonder saw:
A whisker first, and then a claw
With many an ardent wish
She stretched in vain to reach the prize.
What female heart can gold despise?
What Cat's adverse to Fish?

Presumptuous maid! with looks intent
Again she stretch'd, again she bent,
Nor knew the gulf between -
Malignant Fate sat by and smiled -
The slippery verge her feet beguiled;
She tumbled headlong in!

Eight times emerging from the flood
She mew'd to every watery God
Some speedy aid to send: -
No Dolphin came, no Nereid stirr'd,
Nor cruel Tom nor Susan heard -
A favourite has no friend!

From hence, ye Beauties! undeceived
Know one false step is ne'er retrieved,
And be with caution bold:
Not all that tempts your wandering eyes
And heedless hearts, is lawful prize,
Not all that glisters, gold!