AYE, here stands the Poplar, so tall and so stately, On whose tender rind--'twas a little one then-- We carved her initials; though not very lately-- We think in the year eighteen hundred and ten. Yes, here is the G which proclaimed Georgiana; Our heart's empress then; see, 'tis grown all askew; And it's not without grief we perforce entertain a Conviction, it now looks much more like a Q. This should be the great D too, that once stood for Dobbin, Her loved patronymic--ah! can it be so? Its once fair proportions, time, too, has been robbing; A D?--we'll be Derd if it isn't an O! Alas! how the soul sentimental it vexes, That thus on our labours stern Chronos should frown, Should change our soft liquids to izzards and Xes, And turn true-love's alphabet all upside down! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NOBODY'S LOOKIN' BUT DE OWL AND DE MOON (A NEGRO SERENADE) by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON ON THE PROPOSAL TO ERECT A MONUMENT IN ENGLAND TO LORD BYRON by EMMA LAZARUS THE GREAT RACE PASSES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS PRELUDE; FOR GEOFFREY GORER by EDITH SITWELL HENRY MOORE'S STATUE AT LINCOLN CENTER by KAREN SWENSON VIGNETTES OVERSEAS: 10. STRESA by SARA TEASDALE |