He's gone. And here I sit In learning weak, poor in sense, Berry-black, sad, out of it, Without an income, cash, or rents. My lowest relative. I'm sure. Steps up to utter he will quit me, Forgetting even though I'm poor Nature decrees thar he admit me. .. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A MINUTE by INNOKENTI FYODOROVICH ANNENSKY OPEN MY EYES by ALICE E. BAILEY THE SEAGULL by HERBERT BASHFORD NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 25 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT VISION by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES TO ---- ----. (2) by MARY BRYAN |