Small gossip, whispering at the window-pane, Finds reason still for aught beneath the sun, Answers itself ere answer shall be none And in the personal field delights to reign-- Meting to this his grief, to that his gain, And busy to detract, to head or hang. O wiser far, for him who lieth hid Within himself, secure like him to stay, Icesius' son who, when the city rang, Knew there was news abroad nor wondered what. If these conspire, why should I counterplot Or vex my heart with guessing whether or not John went to church, or what my neighbor did The day before day before yesterday? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NOCTURNE IN A MINOR KEY by CONRAD AIKEN THE SAVING WAY by HAYDEN CARRUTH STORIES ARE MADE OF MISTAKES by JAMES GALVIN ALIENS (TO YOU - EVERYWHERE! DEDICATED) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON STUDY FOR A GEOGRAPHICAL TRAIL; 2. ILLINOIS by CLARENCE MAJOR |