THE royal sun with his orbèd flame To be myself I modestly claim; And yet, though strange, it is perfectly true, I am at this moment within your shoe. Have you a delicate hand to show? Its symmetry partly to me you owe; And I cannot think how you can possibly see If deprived in another part of me. The ancient dame, with her spectacled nose, By my strange contortions I often pose, As I glide away from her busy hand To rejoice the juvenile feline band. I am a being of direful power, And many I haste to their last dread hour: Yet the tiny child on his feeble feet Is gladdened and charmed by my motions fleet. I am said to whistle, though not to sing; Merriment oft to hundreds I bring. On due inquiry I think you will find That twenty people in me have dined; Yet when at dinner you take your seat, I'm sometimes the very first thing you eat. Who patronize me? The college youth, Loving me better than books, in truth; The friends of science, the friends of strife, The duellist seeking his fellow's life, Of sharpers and blacklegs not a few, Equine doctors frequently too, The conjuror showing his skilful tricks, In the list the graceful and fair we mix; And last, not least, our gracious Queen My patroness certainly ever hath been. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS TRAIN by HAYDEN CARRUTH TO MY HONORED FRIEND SIR ROBERT HOWARD by JOHN DRYDEN MONADNOC by RALPH WALDO EMERSON THE HUMBLE-BEE by RALPH WALDO EMERSON ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 68 by PHILIP SIDNEY |