THE cruellest torture that a man can know, Passing all Torquemada's racks, is said To be the ceaseless, measured, leisured, slow Drip-drop of water on the victim's head. Surely it were a torment like in kind, If in degree less maddening, to sit still Under the leakage of this good man's mind, The eternal trickle of this blameless quill. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FRINGED GENTIANS by AMY LOWELL GREAT BRITTAINES SUNNES-SET by WILLIAM BASSE THE CHILDREN'S CRUSADE by JOHANNES ROBERT BECHER ENCHANTED MACHINES by BERTON BRALEY SONG OF THE BOOKWORM by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN THE SHEPHERD'S PIPE: FOURTH ECLOGUE. TO MR. THOMAS MANWOOD by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |