GOOD fortune quite a fickle miss is, And in one place will never stay; The hair from off thy face with kisses She strokes, and then she flies away. Misfortune to her heart, however, To clasp thee tightly, ne'er omits; She says she's in a hurry never, Sits down beside thy bed and knits. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SKELETON OF THE FUTURE; AT LENIN'S TOMB by CHRISTOPHER MURRAY GRIEVE PASTEL by MARSDON GILFORD ALBRITTON MY MOTHER'S GARDEN by ALICE E. ALLEN SONG: 2 by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE SECRET OF THE WATERFALL by WILLIAM ROSE BENET PSALM 113 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |