DRINK to me with thine eyes, exclusively, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And I shall not order any wines or liquors. Soul-thirst Demands divine drink; Yet, even to Jovian nectar, I prefer thine. Recently I sent thee a wreath, a wreath of roses, Not honouring thee, particularly— Rather giving it a hope of Immortality. But thou merely breathedst on it And returnedst it to me, Since when it grows, and is redolent, I swear, Not of itself. ... Nay! Its fragrance is of thee. John Spratt detested carbohydrates. The deglutition of proteins, to his wife, Was intolerable. Wherefore, coöperating, There was no waste Of provender. Twinkle, starlet, Loftily, supramundanely, diamondly. Little Miss Muffet sat in a corner, Absorbing casein— A food of great nutritive power, Rich in butter fats. A spider—an arachnid of the species @3Araneidae@1—came along; Ugly, motive, horrendous, Terrorizing her to the point of departure. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FORSAKEN MERMAN by MATTHEW ARNOLD DEATH (1) by MAXWELL BODENHEIM HOW'S MY BOY? by SYDNEY THOMPSON DOBELL HARRIET BEECHER STOWE by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR COMOS by ADRA CAROLINE BATCHELDER CAVE TALK by JOSEPH WARREN BEACH |