IT ripen'd by the river banks, Where, mask and moonlight aiding, Dons Blas and Juan play their pranks, Dark Donnas serenading. By Moorish damsel it was pluck'd, Beneath the golden day there; By swain 'twas then in London suck'd -- Who flung the peel away there. He could not know in Pimlico, As little she in Seville, That @3I@1 should reel upon that peel, And -- wish them at the devil! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE TEARS OF THE POPLARS by EDITH MATILDA THOMAS THE FAIR THIEF by CHARLES WYNDHAM THE CASE OF EDGAR ABBOTT AND PHILIP RIDD by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS BEAUTIFUL THINGS by ELLEN P. ALLERTON FOR MY CHILD by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS EPITAPH ON FRANCIS CHARTRES by JOHN ARBUTHNOT |