AYE, here stands the Poplar, so tall and so stately, On whose tender rind--'twas a little one then-- We carved her initials; though not very lately-- We think in the year eighteen hundred and ten. Yes, here is the G which proclaimed Georgiana; Our heart's empress then; see, 'tis grown all askew; And it's not without grief we perforce entertain a Conviction, it now looks much more like a Q. This should be the great D too, that once stood for Dobbin, Her loved patronymic--ah! can it be so? Its once fair proportions, time, too, has been robbing; A D?--we'll be Derd if it isn't an O! Alas! how the soul sentimental it vexes, That thus on our labours stern Chronos should frown, Should change our soft liquids to izzards and Xes, And turn true-love's alphabet all upside down! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WALT WHITMAN'S CAUTION by WALT WHITMAN THE LAMENTATION OF THE OLD PENSIONER (2) by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS ACROSS THE STREET by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE YOUTH OF MAN by MATTHEW ARNOLD THE BLIND LEGION by WILLIAM ROSE BENET IN THREE DAYS by ROBERT BROWNING |