DRY Pyrrhus, little dost thou know, What 'tis to make a whelp forgo His lioness, -- faith 'twill not do! It will be so. Nearchus understands his game, If he resolves to quit his fame, What's that to you? To save his name You'll purchase shame. If before peace you war prefer, Shoot at his butt -- you'll find from her A Rowland for your Oliver, That I dare swear. He is a gay, and sanguine man, His periwig the wind does fan, And she will hug him, now and than, Do what you can. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A GIRL'S GARDEN by ROBERT FROST RONDEAU by JAMES HENRY LEIGH HUNT GREAT FRIEND by HENRY DAVID THOREAU POLLY BE-EN UPZIDES WI' TOM by WILLIAM BARNES PSALM 19 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE WEDDING FEAST: 6 by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH |