Please let me in, St. Peter; I will polish up the harps, I will teach the most unmusical To play in flats and sharps; I will comb the prophets' whiskers, And curl the cherub's hair, I will make a brand new cushion For Archangel Michael's chair; I will iron out the togas, I will oil your keys for you; I will be such a useful lad If you will let me through! You will not let me enter? Now, St. Peter, shame on you! I may have been a bad, bad boy But you were naughty too -- How about that little rooster That went "cock-a-doodle doo?" Later Thanks very much, St. Peter, For letting me come through. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEAD MEN, TO A METAPHYSICIAN by WILLIAM HERVEY ALLEN JR. CHANCES OF REMEMBRANCE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE BARGAIN by CLAIRE STEWART BOYER TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 4. THE TRYSTING by EDWARD CARPENTER THE ROSICRUCIAN by MADISON JULIUS CAWEIN |