When she was but a little child, And only two feet high, She clapped her hands and cried, 'Shoo, Shoo!' To make the small birds fly; Till with her mouth as sweet as a bee's, Her laughter shook the old folks' knees. But no one laughs when this small child, Grown to a woman soon, Claps her two hands and tries to shoo Away the stars and moon; As though one star should leave its place, Even for her afflicted face. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHEN I'M KILLED by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES FESTOONS OF FISHES by ALFRED FRANCIS KREYMBORG THE NEW COLOSSUS by EMMA LAZARUS VALENTINES TO MY MOTHER: 1877 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI MEDITATION AT KEW by ANNA WICKHAM ODES: BOOK 1: ODE 3. TO A FRIEND UNSUCCESSFUL IN LOVE by MARK AKENSIDE THE RED SUNSETS, 1883 (2) by MATHILDE BLIND |