I know a little laddie of a very prying mind; To make investigations he is wondrously inclined. He must reach the topmost branches of the very highest tree, Each passing gay procession he is right on hand to see, The deepest inner tangle of the thickest swamp he knows Each pebble of the brook has felt the pressure of his toes, He rummages through all the house in spite of locks and doors, The farthest, blackest cavern he most dauntlessly explores, He mounts upon the house-top, and once he even fell (The result of peering over) to the bottom of the well. But, woe is me! the teachers of this prying laddie say That when he comes to books his passion works another way; For when he cons his text-books, in spite of scold and frown, To get to the bottom of them he turns them upside down! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GREEN MOUNTAIN IDYL by HAYDEN CARRUTH O DREAMS, O DESTINATIONS by CECIL DAY LEWIS HOPE (1) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TEARS AND KISSES by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TWO POEMS FROM THE WAR: 2 by ARCHIBALD MACLEISH |