THE Microbe is so very small You cannot make him out at all, But many sanguine people hope To see him through a microscope. His jointed tongue that lies beneath A hundred curious rows of teeth; His seven tufted tails with lots Of lovely pink and purple spots On each of which a pattern stands, Composed of forty separate bands; His eyebrows of a tender green; All these have never yet been seen -- But Scientists, who ought to know, Assure us that they must be so. . . . Oh! let us never, never doubt What nobody is sure about! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GEOMETRY IS THE MIND OF GOD by JAMES GALVIN SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: EUGENE CARMAN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS JOE HILL LISTENS TO THE PRAYING by KENNETH PATCHEN OCTAVES: 16 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE STORY OF THE ASHES AND THE FLAME by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON A GIRL'S THOUGHTS by ISAAC ROSENBERG IN GRANTCHESTER MEADOWS; ON HEARING A SKYLARK SING by GEORGE SANTAYANA |