Dear Henley, with a pig's snout on I am starting for London, Where I likely shall arrive On Saturday, if still alive: Perhaps your pirate doctor might See me on Sunday? If all's right, I should then lunch with you and with she Who's dearer to you than you are to me. I shall remain but little time In London, as a wretched clime, But not so wretched (for none are) As that of beastly old Braemar. My doctor sends me skipping. I Have many facts to meet your eye. My pig's snout now upon my face: And I inhale with fishy grace, My gills outflapping right and left, @3Ol.pin. sylvest@1. I am bereft Of a great deal of charm by this -- Not quite the bull's eye for a kiss -- But like the gnome of olden time Or bogey in a pantomime. For ladies' love I once was fit, But now am rather out of it. Where'er I go, revolted curs Snap round my military spurs; The children all retire in fits And scream their bellowses to bits. Little I care: the worst's been done: Now let the cold impoverished sun Drop frozen from his orbit; let Fury and fire, cold, wind, and wet, And cataclysmal mad reverses Rage through the federate universes; Let Lawson triumph, cakes and ale, Whiskey and hock and claret fail; Tobacco, love, and letters perish, With all that any man could cherish: You it may touch, not me. I dwell Too deep already -- deep in hell; And nothing can befall, O damn! To make me uglier than I am. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A FOREIGN RULER by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR LOVE SONGS TO JOANNES by MINA LOY ELEGY BEFORE DEATH by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY MY SISTER'S SLEEP by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI PROEM by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH AUTUMN MESSAGES by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 4. THE OLD VALLEY by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |