There was a lad as cold ice; He was my lover -- twice. (Don't ask me more; it isn't nice.) Cruel cold, or I wouldn't be Counting them up now. Listen to me. There was a fellow once -- I hoped . . . He and another girl eloped. A certain lad had let me think: He went away and took a drink. Then came a poet suave as oil -- But I was much too giddy to spoil. There was a man with a bold black beard, But he was nothing to be feared. . . . Yet there have been, and there will be, One or two or even three Could make a wanton girl of me: (A wanton girl is hard to find When so many men are dull or blind, Or take a drink, or change their mind. . . .) | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A CALIFORNIA CHRISTMAS by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER WHITTIER by MARGARET ELIZABETH MUNSON SANGSTER THE PHOENIX AND THE TURTLE by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE WELCOME, LITTLE STRANGER (BY A DISPLACED THREE-YEAR-OLD) by CHARLES FOLLEN ADAMS LATE AUTUMN by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM A LULLABY by LAWRENCE ALMA-TADEMA UNSEASONABLE SNOWS by ALFRED AUSTIN THE LAST BALLADE; MASTER FRANCOIS VILLON LOQUITUR by THOMAS BEER |