AH tell me why you turn and fly, My little Thracian filly shy? Why turn askance That cruel glance, And think that such a dunce am I? O I am blest with ample wit To fix the bridle and the bit, And make thee bend Each turning-end In harness all the course of it. But now 'tis yet the meadow free And frisking it with merry glee; The master yet Has not been met To mount the car and manage thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON CARPACCIO'S PICTURE: THE DREAM OF ST. URSALA; SONNET by AMY LOWELL LINCOLN TRIUMPHANT by EDWIN MARKHAM THE DUNES OF INDIANA by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TO W.P.: 2 by GEORGE SANTAYANA WINTER NIGHT SONG by SARA TEASDALE |