A funny creature is my clam: He doesn't seem to give a damn About how anxiously I am Watching to see him move. Without the use of feet or toes Hands or fingers, eyes or nose, Straight across the sand he goes And leaves a groove. I cannot tell which way he'll face, When travelling from place to place: He may bewail his slothsome pace In much exasperation, And still, if he could talk aloud He @3might@1 be very, very proud That Nature had @3so well@1 endowed A clam with transportation. 'Tis plain he's Master of his Soul; He asks no aid to find his goal, Nor even hollow out a hole Wherein to dwell: He has no worry, nor a care, His food is in the water there, And when the gold fish come and stare, He shuts his shell. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONG by DAVID HARTLEY COLERIDGE THE CASTAWAY by WILLIAM COWPER ARIZONA POEMS: 4. THE WINDMILLS by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER BOUND NO'TH BLUES by JAMES LANGSTON HUGHES CUPID AND CAMPASPE, FR. ALEXANDER AND CAMPASPE by JOHN LYLY IF WE MUST DIE by CLAUDE MCKAY TO A LADY: SHE REFUSING TO CONTINUE A DISPUTE WITH ME by MATTHEW PRIOR |