Last week, when conning Cicero In New Big School, Smith called me, by a paraphrase, A senseless mule: I wasn't sharp enough just then To answer, Jack, That pots had oft been known to call The kettles black! And in the Close the other day He called me 'Muff!' I think I've borne his impudence Quite long enough! From length to length abusive men Can quickly pass, So I was hardly staggered when He called me 'Ass!' But in the nets on Friday eve I long did toil To make old Smith rub in at night St. Jacob's Oil! If on the Smithian shins remains An unbruised inch My name is not Bartholomew Ezekiel Finch!
Norman Rowland Gale’s other poems:
Poems of other poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием):
Poetry In English недавно публиковал (посмотреть все)