IF all the trees in all the woods were men; And each and every blade of grass a pen; If every leaf on every shrub and tree Turned to a sheet of foolscap; every sea Were changed to ink, and all earth's living tribes Had nothing else to do but act as scribes, And for ten thousand ages, day and night, The human race should write, and write, and write, Till all the pens and paper were used up, And the huge inkstand was an empty cup, Still would the scribblers clustered round its brink Call for more pens, more paper, and more ink | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE THANKSGIVING IN BOSTON HARBOR [JUNE 12, 1630] by HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH ODE TO WISDOM by ELIZABETH CARTER THE FEMALE CONVICT by LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON A SONG OF A YOUNG LADY TO HER ANCIENT LOVER by JOHN WILMOT LAURENCE BLOOMFIELD IN IRELAND: 8. THE EVICTION by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM ON THE BIRTH OF A FRIEND'S ELDEST SON by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |