In La Mancha he mopeth, With beard thin and dusty; He doteth and mopeth In library fusty -- 'Mong his old folios gropeth: Cites obsolete saws Of chivalry's laws -- Be the wronged one's knight: Die, but do right. So he rusts and musts, While each grocer green Thriveth apace with the fulsome face Of a fool serene. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON STURMINSTER FOOT-BRIDGE by THOMAS HARDY TIME'S REVENGE by AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS THE WARM CRADLE by LAWRENCE ALMA-TADEMA BILL'S LENGTH by ALEXANDER ANDERSON THE MARVELOUS MUNCHAUSEN by WILLIAM ROSE BENET OF HYM THAT TOGYDER WYLL SERVE TWO MAYSTERS by SEBASTIAN BRANT THE PRISONER by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |