THE Pittsburgh Windmill keeps right on, While active years go by— Time doesn't slow his active step, Nor dim his eagle eye. He bounds and capers as of yore, With that same kiddish grin— He dances out, he dances back, He slams them on the chin. His early foemen long since quit The glove-game's fierce endeavor— They've passed it up—and yet we see This Greb go on forever! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA: 2. LOS CIGARILLOS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON A MOTHER TO HER WAKING INFANT by JOANNA BAILLIE TOM BOWLING ['S EPITAPH] by CHARLES DIBDIN AUTUMN: A DIRGE by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY HERTHA by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE A SONG OF LIFE by ABRAHAM IBN EZRA |