|
|
Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE THIMBLE, by AL-LISS First Line: Tis like a helmet, nicked Last Line: The helmet of its crest. | |||
'Tis like a helmet, nicked Where thrusting lances pricked; Some sword has dispossessed The helmet of its crest. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GONE by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE THE DARK-EYED GENTLEMAN by THOMAS HARDY THE GRASSHOPPER AND THE CRICKET by JAMES HENRY LEIGH HUNT PICTURES OF MOTHER by STELLA PFEIFFER BAISCH GROWTH by MILDRED TELFORD BARNWELL SONNET: POOR LISA by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON HOW GREY THE WORLD WAS by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT PROLOGUE FOR THE SILVERDALE VILLAGE PLAYERS: EASTER 1924 by GORDON BOTTOMLEY |
| |