Horace Walpole wasn’t renowned for his sobriety,
But he determined to join the Flat Earth Society,
He’d become to believe that the Earth was, in fact, flat.
This is what he now believed, and that was that.
He tended to become quite hysterical,
Should someone insist that the Earth was spherical.
He had studied up on Ptolemaic astronomy,
Avidly reading whilst pursuing gastronomy.
He thought there to be not a scintilla of risk.
In assuming that the Earth was a disc!
“Mariners of yore wouldn’t sail very far,”
“In their wide search of the Earth for feldspar.”
“They knew if they did, the Earth’s limits stretch,”
“Their return they would not be able to fetch.”
“Because they would have sailed over the edge,”
“And in limbo, they and their ship, would wedge.”

Horace Walpole had a steady stream of answers,
For Flat Earth disavowers taking their chances.
In debating Horace, morning, noon or night.
His vehemence contributing to considerable fright!
“The Earth is flat, there’s just no doubt!”
Horace would regale his opponent with a loud shout.
“Prove to me that the Earth is a sphere,”
“And I’ll subject you to ridicule and jeer!”
“The Earth has a bull’s eye centre, not a core,”
“And if you deny it I’ll debate some more.”
At such point, most would just walk away.
This exhausting debate, perhaps another day.
But, not too far, for fear of falling off the edge,
For it is common knowledge, the edge has no hedge!