OCURIOUS reader, didst thou ne'er Behold a worshipful Lord May'r Seated in his great civic chair So dear? Then cast thy longing eyes this way, It is the ninth November day, And in his new-born state survey One here! To rise from little into great Is pleasant; but to sink in state From high to lowly is a fate Severe. Too soon his shine is overcast, Chill'd by the next November blast; His blushing honours only last One year! He casts his fur and sheds his chains, And moults till not a plume remains -- The next impending May'r distrains His gear. He slips like water through a sieve -- Ah, could his little pleasure live Another twelvemonth -- he would give One ear! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPIGRAM: A LAME BEGGAR by JOHN DONNE MADRIGAL by WILLIAM DRUMMOND OF HAWTHORNDEN THE BLUE-FLAG IN THE BOG by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY TRACT by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS SONNET: EGYPT by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |