Tumble me down, and I will sit Upon my ruines (smiling yet:) Teare me to tatters; yet I'le be Patient in my necessitie. Laugh at my scraps of cloaths, and shun Me, as a fear'd infection: Yet scarre-crow-like I'le walk, as one, Neglecting thy derision. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: CHARLES WARREN, THE SHERIFF by EDGAR LEE MASTERS AN INVOCATION; SONG, FR. REMORSE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE SONG-TIME by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE AMERICAN FIREMAN by CHRISTOPHER BANNISTER THE IMPROVISATORE: THE INDUCTION TO THE THIRD FYTTE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE FOREIGNERS: 1 by CARLOS BULOSAN BETWEEN TWO SEASONS by ELIZABETH BURNINGHAM |