Still she could not give him much; the difficulty was only postponed; what was to be done?
His vanity had grown with his growth; the dread of defeat was only a spur to the society favourite; he cast about for some means of conquering the Philistines, and could think of nothing but his book of poems.

He had been trying off and on for nearly a year to get it published.

The publishers told him roundly that there was no money in poetry and refused the risk.

But the notoriety of his knee-breeches and silken hose, and above all the continual attacks in the society papers, came to his aid and his book appeared in the early summer of 1881 with all the importance that imposing form, good paper, broad margins, and high price (10/6) could give it.

The truth was, he paid for the printing and production of the book himself, and David Bogue, the publisher, put his name on for a commission.
Oscar had built high fantastic hopes on this book.