The Camelopard, it is said By travellers (who never lie), He cannot stretch out straight in bed Because he is so high. The clouds surround his lofty head, His hornlets touch the sky. How shall I hunt this quadruped? I cannot tell! Not I! I'll buy a little parachute (A common parachute with wings), I'll fill it full of arrowroot And other necessary things, And I will slay this fearful brute With stones and sticks and guns and slings. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON SIR PALMES FAIRBORNE'S TOMB, IN WESTERMINSTER ABBEY by JOHN DRYDEN THE HIGH TIDE AT [OR, ON THE COAST OF] LINCOLNSHIRE by JEAN INGELOW THE AEOLIAN HARP; AT THE SURF INN by HERMAN MELVILLE THE INDIAN SERENADE by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY THE PITY OF LOVE by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS |