O POVERTY, if thou and I must wed, I'll surely try to sing thee into fame; I'll call thee many a high-descended name, To shed a lustre on thy dowerless head; Say thou'rt a royal maiden, Spartan bred, Early bound out to a harsh foster-dame, My keen-eyed Hardihood! A worthy shame I'll have of all those cates on which I fed Before I found a zest for thy plain food. I laugh to think how we shall entertain Our friends from Sybaris, with all their train, On nuts and berries from the underwood; We'll have our floor with rushes daily strewed, And patch the roof with boughs against the rain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THE UNKNOWN EROS: BOOK 1: 3. WINTER by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE AN OLD WOMAN: 1 by EDITH SITWELL PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 72, 73, 74, 75. AWWAL, AKHIR, THAHIR, BATIN by EDWIN ARNOLD EDITHA by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS PSALM 3; WHEN HE FLED FROM ABSALOM; AUGUST 9, 1653 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |