Pardon me, all ye birds that float at ease, That I begrudged your fleet aerial joys; And thou, poor Partlet! and ye little bees, That hum and hover with a pleasant noise About your homes of honey! 'twas a spirt Of spleen - a peevish murmur of disease, And not a measured curse to do you hurt: And thou! who for a moment did'st displease, Commission'd to rebuke my pride, and spring Thy tiny pennons on me unaware; Thy smart and sudden lesson was the thing I needed. - Thou art gone I know not where! But I have seen, beside my gouty chair, A chiding angel, of the smallest wing. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN: THE FIRST DAY: PAUL REVERE'S RIDE [APRIL 1775] by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE SWING by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON LEGENDARY LIGHTS by ALTER ABELSON OF BEAUTY by EVA K. ANGLESBURG |