Explore Poems GO!

A Caller

Rating: 2.8

'Why, Goldenson, you're looking very well.'
Said Death as, strolling through the County Jail,
He entered that serene assassin's cell
And hung his hat and coat upon a nail.
'I think that life in this secluded spot
Agrees with men of your trade, does it not?'

'Well, yes,' said Goldenson, 'I can't complain:
Life anywhere-provided it is mine-
Agrees with me; but I observe with pain

That still the people murmur and repine.
Read More

READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
COMMENTS OF THE POEM

Delivering Poems Around The World

Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...

7/31/2021 11:47:00 AM # 1.0.0.666