My wife a-rattling, My children tattling. My money spent is, And due my rent is. My school decreasing, My income ceasing. All people tease me, But no man pays me. My worship is bit, By that rogue Nisbit. To take the right way, Consult friend Whiteway. Would you get still more? Go flatter Kilmore. Your geese are old, Your wife a scold. You live among ill Folks in a dunghill. You never have an Old friend at Cavan. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HER EYES by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON EASTER by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES THE DREAM OF EUGENE ARAM, THE MURDERER by THOMAS HOOD THE HARLEM DANCER by CLAUDE MCKAY DEWEY IN MANILA BAY [MAY 1, 1898] by RICHARD VORHEES RISLEY THE NEW TIMON AND THE POETS by ALFRED TENNYSON IDYLL 5. LIFE TO BE ENJOYED by BION |