Here he comes, big with statistics, Troubled and sharp about fac's. He has heap of the Form that is thinkable''" The stuff that is feeling, he lacks. Do you envy this whiskered absurdity, With pince-nez and clerical tie? Poor fellow, he's blind of a sympathy! I'd rather be blind of an eye. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LOCKED OUT; AS TOLD TO A CHILD by ROBERT FROST THE LAND OF HEART'S DESIRE by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS A HYMN TO GOD THE FATHER by JOHN DONNE EPITHALAMIUM by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN THE CAPTAINS OF THE YEARS by ARTHUR RAYMOND MACDOUGALL JR. SUMMER'S LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT: AUTUMN by THOMAS NASHE SONGS OF TRAVEL: 45. TO S.R. CROCKETT by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON |