Dust Off the Dictionary

I am archaic and forgotten these are my dusty tomes The perennial deipnosophist verbally alone With flowing ink my guide, the page my diligent doxy I capriciously choose my diction and propose my proxy A peccant periapt around thy neck, I’ll drag thee Along the hyperborean, yet sullen, road you see Hoarfrost coated little old me helpless and miserly Carry on, my linguistics are aged unfortunately The bruit is that the caducity of my tenure is The reason for this rhyme; I digress and must stress that this This, is but a puzzle, it is but a conundrum. I'll let you decipher amongst the humdrum