Me you often meet In London's crowded street, And merry children's voices my resting-place proclaim. Pictures and prose and verse Compose me -- I rehearse Evil and good and folly, and call each by its name. I make men glad, and I Can bid their senses fly, And festive echoes know me of Isis and of Cam. But give me to a friend, And amity will end, Though he may have the temper and meekness of a lamb. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: FATHER WHIMSETT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE MILKMAID by JEFFREYS TAYLOR DISARMAMENT by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER FRAGMENT by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 20 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT WHERE THE DEAD MEN LIE by BARCROFT HENRY BOAKE |