Have I no weapon-word for thee -- some message brief and fierce? (Have I fought out and done indeed the battle?) Is there no shot left, For all thy affectations, lisps, scorns, manifold silliness? Nor for myself -- my own rebellious self in thee? Down, down, proud gorge! -- though choking thee; Thy bearded throat and high-borne forehead to the gutter; Crouch low thy neck to eleemosynary gifts. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE QUILTING by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE GOUTY MERCHANT AND THE STRANGER by HORACE SMITH SONNET TO NIGHT by JOSEPH BLANCO WHITE ON THE THRESHOLD by ASTLEY H. BALDWIN OUR LADY OF CHANGE by BERTON BRALEY |