I I LAUGH at each dull bore, taste's parasite Who stares upon me with his goatish eyes; And those raw freshmen, lean as hungry flies, Who gape and sniff at me in petty spite. I laugh, too, at those apes, whose learning trite Puffs them with pride to pose as critics wise; And at those dastard rogues, my enemies, 'Gainst poisoned weapons daring me to fight. Yet when Joy's nosegay of delightful things Is shattered for us by the hand of Fate, And at our feet flung withered, without scent, And when the heart within the breast is rent, Rent, and stabbed through, sore-wounded, desperate— What's left us but that laugh that shrilly rings? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MOTHER'S HOPE by SAMUEL LAMAN BLANCHARD BIANCA AMONG THE NIGHTINGALES by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE WEARY BLUES by JAMES LANGSTON HUGHES ON THE MORNING OF CHRIST'S NATIVITY by JOHN MILTON |