I met three Quakers on a hill, And thee'd and thou'd with them until I thought I was a Quaker, too, And Quakers all the birds that flew And Quakers all the trees that stood Like little angels being good, Whilst Quaker thoughts paced through my brain Like Quaker maidens down a lane. Alas, a solemn goat came by, And butted me, and closed his eye; And not a Quaker I could quote Would make him be a Quaker goat. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AFTER THE PLEASURE PARTY by HERMAN MELVILLE EPITAPH ON THE SECRETARY TO THE MUSES by JANE BARKER TO NATURE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 44 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH THE WAKE OF TIM O'HARA (SEVEN DIALS) by ROBERT WILLIAMS BUCHANAN |