Inland, inland, inland, inland. I am walking long inland, inland. Nobody loves me, she is the greatest of all, I walk inland. They love me only on account of the things I obtain for them. They love me only on account of the food I obtain for them. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BUCOLIC COMEDY: FLEECING TIME by EDITH SITWELL TO MRS. THRALE [ON HER COMPLETING HER THIRTY-FIFTH YEAR] by SAMUEL JOHNSON (1709-1784) THE PRIDE OF BEAUTY by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER LOVE IN EXILE: L'ENVOI by MATHILDE BLIND |