Said a simpering Butterfly, sipping a rose, To a graceless Mosquito on grandpapa's nose, Whom she hoped to entrap, "Pray come, Sir, and taste of this delicate stuff." "Thanks, Madam, I'm just now taking my snuff," Quoth the impudent chap. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE UNDERGRADUATE KILLED IN BATTLE; OXFORD, 1915 by GEORGE SANTAYANA A VALEDICTION: OF THE BOOKE by JOHN DONNE TO A CYCLAMEN by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR BALLAD OF HECTOR IN HADES by EDWIN MUIR THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER: MAY by EDMUND SPENSER SONNET TO THE HUNGARIAN NATION by MATTHEW ARNOLD |