THEY nearly strike me dumb, And I tremble when they come Pit-a-pat: This palpitation means That these boots are Geraldine's-- Think of that! Oh, where did hunter win So delicate a skin For her feet? You lucky little kid, You perished, so you did, For my sweet. The faery stitching gleams On the toes, and in the seams, And reveals That Pixies were the wags Who tipped these funny tags, And these heels. What soles! so little worn! Had Crusoe--soul forlorn!-- Chanced to view One printed near the tide, How hard he would have tried For the two! For Gerry's debonair, And innocent, and fair As a rose: She's an angel in a frock, With a fascinating cock To her nose. Those simpletons who squeeze Their extremities to please Mandarins, Would positively flinch From venturing to pinch Geraldine's. Cinderella's lefts and rights To Geraldine's were frights: And, in truth. The damsel, deftly shod, Has dutifully trod From her youth. The mansion--aye, and more, The cottage of the poor, Where there's grief, Or sickness, are her choice-- And the music of her voice Brings relief. Come, Gerry, since it suits Such a pretty Puss-in-Boots These to don, Set your little hand a while On my shoulder, dear, and I'll Put them on. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A MAN'S REQUIREMENTS by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING KEARNY AT SEVEN PINES [MAY 31, 1862] by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN ICHABOD by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER A GULL GOES UP by LEONIE ADAMS SATIRE: 6 by AULUS PERSIUS FLACCUS TWELVE SONNETS: 4. LONELY SEASONS by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) MY DEAREST WIFE by WILLIAM BARNES |