BY studying my lady's eyes I've grown so learned day by day, So Machiavelian in this wise, That when I send her flowers, I say To each small flower (no matter what, Geranium, pink, or tuberose, Syringa, or forget-me-not, Or violet) before it goes: "Be not triumphant, little flower, When on her haughty heart you lie, But modestly enjoy your hour: She'll weary of you by and by." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE TO SPRING by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD SOPHISTICATION by CONRAD AIKEN HOMING BRAVES by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE SUICIDE by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON HOUSE WITH THE MARBLE STEPS by AMY LOWELL AT THE MERMAID TAVERN (APRIL 10, 1613) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE NEGRO DANCERS by CLAUDE MCKAY A FOOL, A FOUL THING, A DISTRESSFUL LUNATIC by MARIANNE MOORE |