Laurence Raby's Chamber. LAURENCE enters, a little the worse for liquor. Laurence: He never gave me a chance to speak, And he call'd her -- worse than a dog -- The girl stood up with a crimson cheek, And I fell'd him there like a log. I can feel the blow on my knuckles yet -- He feels it more on his brow. In a thousand years we shall all forget The things that trouble us now. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HERITAGE by GWENDOLYN B. BENNETT A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 19. THE FAIRY QUEEN PROSERPINA by THOMAS CAMPION TERMINUS (1) by RALPH WALDO EMERSON A MAN BY THE NAME OF BOLUS by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 92 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI |