THE Thingumbob sat at eventide, On the shore of a shoreless sea, Expecting an unexpected attack From something it could not foresee. A still calm rests on the angry waves, The low wind whistles a mournful tune, And the Thingumbob sighs to himself, "Alas, I've had no supper now since noon." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MIDDLE-AGED; A STUDY IN EMOTION by EZRA POUND IN THE WILDERNESS by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES CALDWELL OF SPRINGFIELD [JUNE 23, 1780] by FRANCIS BRET HARTE BALL'S BLUFF; A REVERIE by HERMAN MELVILLE THE NYMPH'S REPLY TO THE SHEPHERD by WALTER RALEIGH THE SABBATH LAMP by GRACE AGUILAR |