Oh, Brickbat Park I name it: The soil is none too grand; But summer flowers inflame it, And sometimes there's a band. I know two tall power-stations Exhale a mort of grit, And constant fumigations From tugs disfigure it. I know how on the lakelet There lies a sooty scum: The cygnet and the drakelet Must find it troublesome. Drawbacks! But there's high-grade work In the allotments, where The plants reward the spadework And help the bill of fare. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NEW-MADE HONOUR (IMITATED FROM MARTIAL) by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM THE CENCI; A TRAGEDY: ACTS 4-5 by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY THE OLD MAN'S COMFORTS AND HOW HE GAINED THEM by ROBERT SOUTHEY TALL NETTLES by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS AFTER LONG SILENCE by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS INDIA by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD LINES WRITTEN IN LADY'S ALBUM OF DIFFERENT-COLOURED PAPER by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |