Victory comes late - And is held low to freezing lips - Too rapt with frost To take it - How sweet it would have tasted - Just a Drop - Was God so economical? His Table's spread too high for Us - Unless We dine on tiptoe - Crumbs - fit such little mouths - Cherries - suit Robbins - The Eagle's Golden Breakfast strangles - Them - God keep His Oath to Sparrows - Who of little Love - know how to starve | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DAMON THE MOWER by ANDREW MARVELL ON A GIFT OF FLOWERS by GUILLAUME VICTOR EMILE AUGIER DON'T YOU SEE? by KATHARINE LEE BATES THE SHEPHERD'S SONG: A CAROL OR HYMN FOR CHRISTMAS by EDMUND BOLTON A HYMN OF FORM by GORDON BOTTOMLEY TO THE DECEASED AUTHOR, UPON THE PROMISCUOUS PRINTING OF HIS POEMS by THOMAS BROWNE |