I STOLE a glance at Polly, Her chin was tilted high, She scorned me then, — 't was folly To dare to even try. So, like a goose I showed the feather, And sat and talked about the weather. But now I've grown much wiser, Next time I will surprise her, — And when her chin is high, you see, I'll know that it is "up to me." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AUGURIES OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE CUPBOARD by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE BITTERNESS by VICTORIA MARY SACKVILLE-WEST ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 68 by PHILIP SIDNEY THE SURPRISE AT TICONDEROGA [MAY 10, 1775] by MARY ANNA PHINNEY STANSBURY |