SQUAT-NOSED and broad, of big and pompous port; A tavern visage, apoplexy haunts, All pimple-puffed: the Falstaff-like resort Of fat debauchery, whose veined cheek flaunts A flabby purple: rusty-spurred he stands In rakehell boots and belt, and hanger that Claps when, with greasy gauntlets on his hands, He swaggers past in cloak and slouch-plumed hat. Aggression marches armies in his words; And in his oaths great deeds ride cap-à-pie; His looks, his gestures breathe the breath of swords; And in his carriage camp all wars to be: -- With him of battles there shall be no lack While buxom wenches are and stoops of sack. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FIGHTING RACE [FEBRUARY 16, 1898] by JOSEPH IGNATIUS CONSTANTINE CLARKE MELANCHOLIA by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR VICKSBURG by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 13 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN MR. FLOOD'S PARTY by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON BOY BRITTAN [FEBRUARY 8, 1862] by BYRON FORCEYTHE WILLSON |