The h2g2 Poem
Created | Updated Nov 4, 2004
The Rime of the Ancient Moxon
In WinNT did DNA
A stately Guide-to-all decree
So Jim, the program-giver ran,
Through routines measureless to man
Down to a bugless C
So twice five files of fertile thought
To digital village were soonest wrought
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree1
And here were jokes as ancient as the hills
Enfolding sunny folks we all envy
But oh! that deep, be-bearded hippy slanted
Off to the right at some artistic angle
Whene'er his name upon the screen is printed
A savage man! so holy and enchanted
From what I hear he makes the ladies tingle...
But in this hippy, ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if the man in fast thick pants (!) were breathing,
A lust for travel momently was forced:
And thus a bombshell of grave news has burst
Researchers come to here record their hail
Or just lament his leaving and here wail:
It is an ancient Editor
And he stoppeth one of three
'By thy thin black beard and glittering eye
Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?'
He holds him with his skinny hand
'A great website!' quoth he,
'Hold off, unhand me, wisp-beard loon!'
Eftsoons his hand dropt he.
He holds him with his glittering eye
The Researcher stood still
And listens like a three years' child,
The Editor hath his will.
'The site was cheered, the cheques were cleared
Merrily did we toil
To build a Guide that all would write,
We burned the midnight oil.'
'And then the dotcom bubble burst
And royally f****d were we
But still we sailed our chosen course
Thanks to the BBC.'
'At length did come an Albatross
Through the fog it came
'Moderation' it was called
We hailed it in God's name.'
'But now I'm cussed with wander-lust
My desk I'll leave behind
To Africa the road calls me
Off site and out of mind.'
'O sweeter than the marriage-feast
Tis sweeter far to me
To walk off now into the sun
With goodly company.'
'Farewell, farewell! But this I tell
To thee thou Researcher:
The site's yours now, but this I trow -
Break it and I'll getcher!'
With further profuse apologies to yer man Samuel Taylor Coleridge.
I think you know what I'm saying.