Why do you rush through the fields in trains, Guessing so much and so much; Why do you flash through the flowery meads, Fat headed poet whom nobody reads; And how do you know such a frightful lot About people in gloves as such? And how the devil can you be sure, Guessing so much and so much, How do you know but what someone who loves Always to see me in nice white gloves At the end of the field you are rushing by, Is waiting for his Old Dutch? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...KNEE-DEEP IN JUNE by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY UP-HILL by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI WORLD'S WORTH by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI MY NATIVE LAND by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS A POEM, DEDICATED TO WILLIAM LAW, PROFESSOR OF PHILOSOPHY by ROBERT BLAIR |