MADAM, though I am one of those That every Spring use to compose--- That is, add feet unto round prose---, Yet you a further art disclose, And can, as everybody knows, Add to those feet fine dainty toes. Satires add nails, but they are shrews; My Muse therefore no further goes, But for her feet craves shoes and hose. Let a fair season add a rose, While thus attired we 'll oppose The tragic buskins of our foes. And herewith, madam, I will close, And 'tis no matter how it shows: All I care is, if the child grows. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE POET by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE DAY IS DONE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW FETES GALANTES: MANDOLINE by PAUL VERLAINE CIRCE by AUGUSTA DAVIES WEBSTER DEFIANT OF DEATH by EVA K. ANGLESBURG CYNTHIA SLEEPING IN A GARDEN; A SONNET by PHILIP AYRES |