AH tell me why you turn and fly, My little Thracian filly shy? Why turn askance That cruel glance, And think that such a dunce am I? O I am blest with ample wit To fix the bridle and the bit, And make thee bend Each turning-end In harness all the course of it. But now 'tis yet the meadow free And frisking it with merry glee; The master yet Has not been met To mount the car and manage thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE TO SPRING by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD CONTRA MORTEM: THE ECSTASY by HAYDEN CARRUTH CRITIC AND POET by EMMA LAZARUS DOMESDAY BOOK: THE CORONER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS ACCOMPLISHED FACTS by CARL SANDBURG |