A Tom Tit clinging upside down, Needs nothing more to raise his wonder; A lonely Trout will play until His own deep whirlpool sucks him under. So when my money all is spent, And all my merry friends are gone What little Tom Tit, Trout, or Child, Will teach me how to play alone? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO GOD THE FATHER by KATHERINE MANSFIELD HALLOWED GROUND by THOMAS CAMPBELL THE WASTE LAND (1-5, COMPLETE) by THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT EASTER WINGS by GEORGE HERBERT THE YOUTH WITH RED-GOLD HAIR by EDITH SITWELL THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER: DEDICATORY SONNET by EDMUND SPENSER |