POETS may sing their plaintive wails, Historians tell their fearful tales Of wasted lives and broken hearts, And the anguish of love's poisoned darts; But they tell of nothing half so bad, Nothing so harrowing or sad, As the story read at a single look At the stubs in a college-man's old bank-book. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ARIZONA POEMS: 4. THE WINDMILLS by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER MOTHER TO SON by JAMES LANGSTON HUGHES THE EAGLE THAT IS FORGOTTEN by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY THE SEA-LIMITS by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI ODES: BOOK 1: ODE 7. ON THE USE OF POETRY by MARK AKENSIDE |