TULLY, the queen of beauty's boast, Through all America the toast, Does, that her face more eyes may catch, Reform it with a negro-patch. Venus for ever does delight In thickest shade, and ebon night. Does not Tom Serjeant try to make His person passant dressed in black? Observe the coal of purest jet The fiercest flame does still beget. As the most cloudy mysteries The mussulmans devoutest prize, So smartest beaux and wits adore The gloomy grace of Molly Moor. The proudest snowy forms at last Must in a sable pall be dressed: E'en Dolly Dowglass' self must go Down to the negro-shades below; Into the pitchy kingdom, where This raven lass shall queen appear; And sit on Proserpina's throne, When she is up to Ceres gone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CEMETERY BY THE SEA by PAUL VALERY A DIALOGUE BETWEEN TWO SHEPHERDS IN PRAISE OF ASTRAEA by MARY SIDNEY HERBERT GEORGE CRABBE by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON TIMES GO BY TURNS by ROBERT SOUTHWELL THE TAXI by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS BATTALION IN REST by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |