There lived a sage in days of yore, And he a handsome pigtail wore; But wondered much, and sorrowed more, Because it hung behind him. He mused upon this curious case, And swore he'd change the pigtail's place, And have it hanging at his face, Not dangling there behind him. Says he, "The mystery I've found, -- I'll turn me round," -- he turned him round, But still it hung behind him. Then round and round, and out and in, All day the puzzled sage did spin; In vain -- it mattered not a pin -- The pigtail hung behind him. And right and left, and round about, And up and down and in and out He turned; but still the pigtail stout Hung steadily behind him. And though his efforts never slack, And though he twist, and twirl, and tack, Alas! still faithful to his back, The pigtail hangs behind him. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DEATH OF A PHOTOGRAPHER by KAREN SWENSON WORD-PORTRAITS: THE DESCRIPTION OF SIR GEOFFREY CHAUCER by ROBERT GREENE SONG by ARTHUR WILLIAM EDGAR O'SHAUGHNESSY PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 54. AL-KAWI by EDWIN ARNOLD ANNIVERS: BAPTISMI by JOSEPH BEAUMONT E.W.T.: ON THE DEATH OF HIS BETTY by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE AFTERMATH by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 2. HIGH IN MY CHAMBER by EDWARD CARPENTER |