LITTLE General Monk Sat upon a trunk, Eating a crust of bread; There fell a hot coal And burnt in his clothes a hole, Now little General Monk is dead. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE NOTHING I by HAYDEN CARRUTH GREEN MOUNTAIN IDYL by HAYDEN CARRUTH DAWN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ENVOYS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TAPS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO HENRY LINCOLN JOHNSON - LAWYER by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |