The poet goes ragged; The merchant wears silk; He eats patties While the poet drinks milk. One cuts coupons, And one splits hope; One hawks sonnets, And one sells soap. They lie long time Under a white spread; I heard them say, "The poet lives"; Of the merchant, "He is dead." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GREAT BELL ROLAND; SUGGESTED BY PRESIDENT'S CALL VOLUNTEERS by THEODORE TILTON THE WOOD THRUSH by SUSAN SHARP ADAMS BEETHOVEN'S SEVENTH SYMPHONY by LYMAN WHITNEY ALLEN THE PLEASED CAPTIVE; A SONG by PHILIP AYRES RIDDLE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD LONG LIVE LIFE by JACQUES BARON THE RED SUNSETS, 1883 (1) by MATHILDE BLIND |