OLD Master Brown brought his ferule down, And his face looked angry and red. "Go, seat you there, now, Anthony Blair, Along with the girls," he said. Then Anthony Blair, with a mortified air, With his head down on his breast, Took his penitent seat by the maiden sweet That he loved, of all, the best. And Anthony Blair seemed whimpering there, But the rogue only made believe; For he peeped at the girls with the beautiful curls, And ogled them over his sleeve. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH: BOOK 3. ON WASHING by JOHN ARMSTRONG IN APRIL by MARGARET LEE ASHLEY HYMN TO CONTENT by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD WHY DON'T THE MEN PROPOSE? by THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 3 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT SINGING HANDS by CAREY YATES BUSBY MASQUE AT THE MARRIAGE OF THE LORD HAYES: HESPERUS SPEAKS by THOMAS CAMPION |