"THOUGH I was born in April's prime, With many another lamb, Yet, thinking now of all my years, What am I but a tough old ram?" "No woman thinks of years," said she, "Or any tough old rams, When she can hear a voice that bleats As tenderly as any lamb's." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DINNER IN A QUICK LUNCH ROOM by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET CONTRA MORTEM: THE NOTHING II by HAYDEN CARRUTH CONTRA MORTEM: THE SUMMER by HAYDEN CARRUTH ETUDES DE PLUSIERS PAYSAGES DE L' AME: 1 by HAYDEN CARRUTH MY FATHER'S FACE by HAYDEN CARRUTH |