Donought would have everything; Eat the lark, and use its wing; Sip the sweet, and be the sting: Donought is the only King. Donought is an alchemist; Hencock is a communist; Idle head is heavy fist; Will's a right line--with a twist. Hark! the throstle! what sings he? "Worm, my Beauty, come to me!' Yet all lovely things are free: "Chain'd and happy, cannot be.' "See the daisies, how they grow!' When they list, the breezes blow: Why can't weary man do so? All enjoy, and nothing owe? "Mouth, keep open! Eyes, be shut!' Take no care for back or gut: Best of women is the slut: Hey, for cattle cook'd and cut! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OUTIDANA: A DIRGE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES CHURCHILL'S GRAVE by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE LITANY: 10. THE MARTYRS by JOHN DONNE THE ARSENAL AT SPRINGFIELD by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW MODERN LOVE: 1 by GEORGE MEREDITH THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 77. SOUL'S BEAUTY by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI |