Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ENIGMA: 8 by FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL

First Line: WHAT WAS I? SUCH A CLEVER FRIAR
Last Line: I LEARNED TO SMOKE INSTEAD OF SLEEP.
Subject(s): BACON;
WHAT was I? Such a clever friar,
I barely 'scaped the witches' pyre;
Yet doth philosophy in me
One of her bright admirers see;
And forms of classic beauty grew
Beneath my hand to nature true;
Each wondrous magic lantern show
To me the happy children owe;
With Schwartz contesting, I should mention
The honor of his great invention.
What am I? What you may despise,
For I am little more than grease,
And yet I am an annual prize
For matrimonial love and peace.
In every scrape or awkward plight
I hope to save me you'll be able.
I am the ploughboy's great delight,
And often grace his Sunday table.
From dreams of mire and sweet repose
To streaky excellence I rose;
And, following still the chimney sweep,
I learned to smoke instead of sleep.



Home: PoetryExplorer.net