HE scribbles some in prose and verse, And now and then he prints it; He paints a little, -- gathers some Of Nature's gold and mints it. He plays a little, sings a song, Acts tragic roles, or funny; He does, because his love is strong, But not, oh, not for money! He studies almost everything From social art to science; A thirsty mind, a flowing spring, Demand and swift compliance. He looms above the sordid crowd -- At least through friendly lenses; While his mamma looks pleased and proud, And kindly pays expenses. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PHANTOM-LOVER [OR, WOOER] by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES A SONG TO A FAIR YOUNG LADY GOING OUT OF TOWN IN THE SPRING by JOHN DRYDEN DIVINATION BY A DAFFADILL by ROBERT HERRICK THE CONQUERED BANNER by ABRAM JOSEPH RYAN THE KING OF NORMANDY by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER PENT by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD: AGLAIA. A PASTORAL by NICHOLAS BRETON |