MY own friend, my old friend! Time's a soldier bold, friend! Of his lofty prowess Many a tale is told, friend! Nations are his puppets, To be bought and sold, friend! He can mock the conqueror, Rase his strongest hold, friend! Fool the stern philosopher, Win the miser's gold, friend! But though earthly nature Has so frail a mould, friend! What the tyrant cannot do Is to make @3us@1 cold, friend! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ALICE IN WONDERLAND: THE WALRUS AND THE CARPENTER by CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON SYMPHONY IN YELLOW by OSCAR WILDE THE PASSING SHOW by AMBROSE BIERCE GIVE NOT WITH YOUR HANDS by MACKNIGHT BLACK GRISELDA: CHAPTER 5 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 8 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |