DESPOTS smiling yield their breath, Knowing after their own death That their slaves but change their master, And, if anything, work faster. Ah, poor race! like horse and bull They the waggons still must pull, And their backs will soon be broken If they heed not what is spoken. David said to Solomon On his deathbed: "List, my son! "My most dreaded foe of course is "Joab, general of my forces. "This brave general many a year "I have view'd with hate and fear; "But, however I detest him, "I ne'er ventured to arrest him. "Thou, my son, of sterner stuff, "Fearing God, art strong enough; "'Tis for thee an easy matter "That said Joab's brains to scatter." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BLUEFLAGS by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS SA-CA-GA-WE-A; THE INDIAN GIRL WHO GUIDED LEWIS AND CLARK by EDNA DEAN PROCTOR THE NYMPH'S REPLY TO THE SHEPHERD by WALTER RALEIGH FIFTY FAGGOTS by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS ON THE LATE S.T. COLERIDGE by WASHINGTON ALLSTON ECLOGUE ON ELIZABETH BELSHAM by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD TO MISS KINDER, ON RECEIVING A NOTE DATED FEBRUARY 30TH by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |