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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE POET AND THE FLY: 2, by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY Poet's Biography First Line: While unto dawn succeeded day Last Line: If you can find its moral, do. Subject(s): Flies | |||
WHILE unto dawn succeeded day, Unresting still the Victim lay; The many-limbed one had its way. He heard the stair-clock's tranquil ticks; When it exultingly struck six, He gave a score or so of kicks. "Before to-morrow's sun up-climbs," He feebly said, "yon leafy limes, I'll write a letter to the 'Times.'" Haggard and wan, when noon was nigh, He rose and flung his window high; He heard, beneath, an old man's cry. He strove -- but idly strove -- to eat; Till now, to see the potted meat Vanish before him was a treat. He strove to write, but strove in vain; Dark thoughts 'gan shape them in his brain; He listened to that old man's strain. It rang out, maddeningly distinct; As he gave ear to it he winked; He dropped the pen that he had inked. (SONG OF OLD MAN BELOW.) "Catch-'em-alive! Gentlemen, I've Here such a dose as no fly can survive. House-fly, blue-bottle, Garden-fly -- what'll Save him when once he's got this in his throttle? Let e'en a wasp dip his nose in the mixture, Spread on a plate, and that wasp is a fixture. Buy, buy; give it a try; Don't be put down by a poor little fly. Who'll purchase any? Only a penny Kills you them all, if it's ever so many." He bought, he placed some on a plate; I wis, he had not long to wait; They ate it at a frightful rate. But on his friend of yesternight (He knew the animal by sight) His baffled gaze could ne'er alight. At last he noticed the unfeeling Brute in a casual manner wheeling Round an excrescence in the ceiling. Self-poised, it eyed the heaps of slain; But, that it did not entertain A thought of joining them, was plain. It winged that upper-air till ten, The bard's retiring-hour; and then Descending, tackled him again. Next morn the young man made his will; And either shot himself at drill Or sucked slow poison through a quill. The Thing accurst -- the Vaticide -- All wiles for snaring him defied; And at a good old age he died. This tale (I guarantee it true), Reader, I dedicate to you. If you can find its moral, do. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FLY, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE BLUE-FLY by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES HIC VIR, HIC EST' by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY |
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