Dean-bourn, farewell; I never look to see Deane, or thy warty incivility. Thy rockie bottome, that doth teare thy streams And makes them frantick, ev'n to all extreames; To my content, I never sho'd behold, Were thy streames silver, or thy rocks all gold. Rockie thou art; and rockie we discover Thy men; and rockie are thy wayes all over. O men, O manners; Now, and ever knowne To be A Rockie Generation! A people currish; churlish as the seas; And rude (almost) as rudest Salvages. With whom I did, and may re-sojourne when Rockes turn to Rivers, Rivers turn to Men. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA: 6. SUNSET IN THE TROPICS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE VALLEY'S SINGING DAY by ROBERT FROST THE WIND IN A FROLIC by WILLIAM HOWITT A FAREWELL TO TOBACCO by CHARLES LAMB IN A SPRING GROVE by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM CURE FOR AFFLICTIONS by ARCHILOCHUS THE OUTCAST by HELEN MCCRORY ARENDELL |