WATER-GREEN is the flowing pollard In Drowsytown; a smocked dullard Sits upon the noodle Soft and milky grass, -- Clownish-white was that fopdoodle As he watched the brown bear pass . . . "Who speaks of Alexander And General Hercules, And who speaks of Lysander? For I am strong as these! The housekeeper's old rug Is shabby brown as me, And if I wished to hug Those heroes, they would flee, -- For always when I show affection They take the contrary direction. I passed the barrack square In nodding Drowsytown, -- Where four-and-twenty soldiers stare Through slits of windows at the Bear," (So he told the Clown.) "Twelve were black as Night the Zambo, (Black shades playing at dumb crambo!) Twelve were gilded as the light, Goggling negro eyes of fright. There they stood and each mentero, Striped and pointed, leaned to Zero . . . Grumbling footsteps of the Bear Came near . . . they did fade in air, The window shut and they were gone The Brown Bear lumbered on alone." So he told the smocked fopdoodle, White and flapping as the air, Sprawling on the grass for pillow -- (Milky soft as any noodle) 'Neath the water-green willow There in Drowsytown Where one crumpled cottage nods -- Nodding Nodding Down. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE, FR. THE PASSIONATE PILGRIM by RICHARD BARNFIELD TYRANNICK [TYRANNIC] LOVE: SONG by JOHN DRYDEN THE BOUGH OF NONSENSE by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES HAWTHORNE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW LILIES: 25. THY LOVE-SERVICE by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) APPREHENSION by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 29 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |