NOW God be wi' old Symon, For he made cans to many a one, And a good old man was he; And Jenkin was his journeyman, And he could tipple off every can; And thus he said to me: To whom drink you, Sir Knave? Turn the timber like the lave; Ho! jolly Jenkin, I spy a knave in drinking; Come, troll the bowl to me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THEN AND NOW by CECIL DAY LEWIS MOTHERHOOD by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON FRAGMENT by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON IN A SWEDISH GRAVEYARD by EMMA LAZARUS TO A PRIZE BIRD by MARIANNE MOORE YOUNG BULLFROGS by CARL SANDBURG |