I GO about dumfoundedly, and show a dullard's glance, But in my mind are spangles, and music and a dance, -- Tra-la, the hid romance! And I suspect, O brothers (and sisters, drab and prim), 'Tis quite the same with all of you, with every her and him That goes in masking trim. The whole world hides the truth; and, faith, it is a parlous shame To make a pale-faced misery of such a glorious game -- With all of us to blame. So let us be like mummers who grin and lift their lays And kick their heels at heaven a hundred happy ways, Sky-larking down the days! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CATS' MONTH by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS LESSER EPISTLES: TO A YOUNG LADY WITH SOME LAMPREYS by JOHN GAY SAPPHO AND PHAON: 2. THE TEMPLE OF CHASTITY by MARY DARBY ROBINSON THE COWBOY'S DANCE SONG by JAMES BARTON ADAMS THE NONSENSE SAW OF A SAW-GIRL I SAW IN ARKANSAW by FRED W. ALLSOPP TO MY FRIENDS, WHO RIDICULED A TENDER LEAVE-TAKING by MATTHEW ARNOLD SONNET TO THE KYNGE by THEODORE AGRIPPA D' AUBIGNE EPIGRAM ON MISS DAVIES; LINES WRITTEN ON A WINDOW AT MOFFAT INN by ROBERT BURNS |