The goat that rubbed my knees last night And left his ancient smell Maddened my heart that I was what A horned goat could tell. For if his favour singled me, Out of the passing crowd, It's plain I'm not too well disguised, Nor yet too worldly proud. Most difficult it is to-day Beneath a coat and vest; I feared my old identity Might fade with all the rest. But I'll go back to hill and sky And hold a colloquy; I need those ancient presences Whose tumult still is - me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SMOTHERED FIRES by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON APPELLATE JURISDICTION by MARIANNE MOORE THE FOREFATHER by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON THE LAST MAN by THOMAS CAMPBELL THE LAWYER'S WAYS by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR |