He's gone. And here I sit In learning weak, poor in sense, Berry-black, sad, out of it, Without an income, cash, or rents. My lowest relative. I'm sure. Steps up to utter he will quit me, Forgetting even though I'm poor Nature decrees thar he admit me. .. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DINNER IN A QUICK LUNCH ROOM by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET TWILIGHT COMES by HAYDEN CARRUTH A PECK OF GOLD by ROBERT FROST REPULSE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO BEACHEY, 1912 by CARL SANDBURG RHYMES OF THE DAY by GEORGE SANTAYANA THE COAT OF FIRE by EDITH SITWELL |