I who have seen a tiny cloud, No bigger than my Lady's puff, Powder the Heavens with miles of soot, And make the seas all wild and rough; I who have seen that speck at last Sink half a fleet and drown its men, With waves, like eagles, swooping down To carry off both sheep and pen; I who have felt and seen all this, And trained my thoughts to quiet scorn Am still the man to dress Love's finger, Scratched by a little pin or thorn. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BISHOP BLOUGRAM'S APOLOGY by ROBERT BROWNING SALLY SIMKIN'S LAMENT by THOMAS HOOD EYES AND TEARS by ANDREW MARVELL A FRESHET by ANTIPHILUS OF BYZANTIUM NATALITIUM: MARTIJ 13, 1645 by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |