Old Noll looked down from the wall, and spoke to me: "Foul papish ways your time takes on, Grandson. Yourself is froward and stiff-necked, but charity Is in you and your years are few. Let run All who would read: The Beast, his sign is on Your Sodom, and royal Tyrian scarlet decks The harlotry of all your Babylon. Get you a rod and bend their necks, And bow their knees or flay their backs." But I looked up at Noll, and yawned and rose. "Grandpa," I said, "The mountain is that molehill on your nose." His wart went red. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FABRIC OF LIFE by KAY RYAN FAREWELL TO NANCY by ROBERT BURNS HOHENLINDEN by THOMAS CAMPBELL AIRLY BEACON by CHARLES KINGSLEY ODES: BOOK 2: ODE 5. ON LOVE OF PRAISE by MARK AKENSIDE BOOKS ET VERITAS by WILLIAM ROSE BENET TO A CRITIC OF TENNYSON by AMBROSE BIERCE HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 4 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |