I'VE got him, at last, in the focus Of a powerful telescope glass, But he, magnified, looks like a slow cuss, And his ears much like those of an ass. His eyes are like two peeled potatoes; His wings like the sails of a ship; And his beard, which unshaven that way grows, Seems to cover an acre of lip. His stomach is large and capacious, It always is hungry, no doubt; And, much like a hog, his rapacious Desires may be gauged by his snout. His legs are not merely for creeping, They are muscular, angular, high; Just fitted for gallantly leaping, When he chooses, plumb into the sky! From his brawny bull neck, saffron-tinted, Suspended by weather-stained rope, Hangs a medal with Sanscrit imprinted: "With this monster no mortal can cope! "He's descended through long generations, With a pedigree perfect and straight, From the locust that scooped ancient nations Whenever he lit at their gate." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SECOND REVIEW OF THE GRAND ARMY [MAY 24, 1865] by FRANCIS BRET HARTE HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 6 by EZRA POUND THE THORN by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH GOODS TRAIN AT NIGHT by KENNETH H. ASHLEY VELLEN THE TREE by WILLIAM BARNES |