MY @3first@1 dwells in the torrid zone, Its beauty and its boon, Yet this the Esquimaux must own Beneath an Arctic moon. He who would do it is untrue, Though all in every land To bear it off in strife desire, It always is at hand. My @3first@1 and @3next@1 in days of yore Went forth in lowly guise: A staff was theirs, but little store Of what the world would prize. Yet one, alas! in later days, With murder on his brow, Revealed how far in guilty ways A child of earth may go. My @3last@1 I think you'll quickly name In half a minute more; Are twenty hundreds quite the same As just a hundred score? For if you say what each would be, The name you will have got; And yet, reversing, you will see That surely it is @3not.@1 My @3whole@1 I leave without debate, For 'tis not woman's mission To criticise the wise and great And play the politician. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A CANADIAN BOAT SONG; WRITTEN ON THE RIVER ST. LAWRENCE by THOMAS MOORE A MOTHER'S PICTURE by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN A FORSAKEN GARDEN by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE THE CITY OF DREADFUL NIGHT: 21 by JAMES THOMSON (1834-1882) TO THE VERS LIBRIST WHO USES ONLY THE MINOR KEY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |