Alfred Lord Tennyson

(6 August 1809 – 6 October 1892 / Lincoln / England)

The Skipping-Rope - Poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson

SURE never yet was antelope
Could skip so lightly by.
Stand off, or else my skipping-rope
Will hit you in the eye.
How lightly Whirls the skipping-rope !
How fairy-like you fly !
Go, get you gone, you muse and mope -
I hate that silly sigh.
Nay, dearest, teach me how to hope,
Or tell me how to die.
There, take it, take my skipping-rope,
And hang yourself thereby.

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, April 8, 2010

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