Treasure Island

John Kenyon

(1784-1856 / Jamaica)

Brook Of Sanguinetto,


We win, where least we care to strive;
And where the most we strive—we miss.
Old Hannibal, if now alive,
Might sadly testify to this.
He lost the Rome, for which he came;
And—what he never had in petto—
Won for this little brook a name—
Its mournful name of Sanguinetto.

Submitted: Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Listen to this poem:

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

What do you think this poem is about?

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Brook Of Sanguinetto, by John Kenyon )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..
[Hata Bildir]