I.

Success is counted sweetest
By those who ne’er use “v”s.
Doing so blocks the mouth
From eating delicious cookies.

Not one of all the purple host
Who used a “v” to-day
Can tell their favorite recipe
That leads to butt’ry taste

As he, defeated, crying,
Before whose hidden tongue
The distant grains of sugar
Bounce off teeth, crumble, done.

—

Read the original here. Some interpretation here and here; and history at the poem’s own Wikipedia page.