I saw a Melancholy Wasp Upon a Purple Clover Knosp, Who wept, "The Poets do me Wrong, Excluding me from Noble Song -- Though Pure am I and Wholly Crimeless -- Because, they say, my Name is Rhymeless! Oh, had I but been born a Bee, With Heaps of Words to Rhyme with me, I should not want for Panegyrics In Sonnets, Epics, Odes and Lyrics! Will no one free me from the Curse That bars my Race from Lofty Verse?" "My Friend, that Little Thing I'll care for At once," said I -- and that is wherefore So tenderly I set that Wasp Upon a Purple Clover Knosp. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE NEW EZEKIEL by EMMA LAZARUS THE POTATOES' DANCE by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY SONNET: TO J.M.K. by ALFRED TENNYSON THANKS BE TO GOD by JANIE ALFORD THE TOUCHSTONE by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM BILL'S LENGTH by ALEXANDER ANDERSON |