I--The Tragedy
She sits in the tawny vapour
That the City lanes have uprolled,
Behind whose webby fold on fold
Like a waning taper
The street-lamp glimmers cold.
A messenger's knock cracks smartly,
Flashed news is in her hand
Of meaning it dazes to understand
Though shaped so shortly:
He--has fallen--in the far South Land . . .
II--The Irony
'Tis the morrow; the fog hangs thicker,
The postman nears and goes:
A letter is brought whose lines disclose
By the firelight flicker
His hand, whom the worm now knows:
Fresh--firm--penned in highest feather -
Page-full of his hoped return,
And of home-planned jaunts by brake and burn
In the summer weather,
And of new love that they would learn.
nah not really just a bit meh could do with some more FX but would rate 8/8 never read again. Got to do this for GCSE English this year and I want to cry its so boring but would still rate it. should of been directed by Michael bay but that would just make it the ultimate meme of the century
This is so sad. Alexa, can I hit Kunta? by the way kunta, i pick cotton better than you. disappointing, seeing how you grew up doing that.
Wow this comment is actually gay. whats the point in reading that just to get another F. This is so sad. Alexa, can we hit Kunta? BTW Kunta, you smelly boy. Your cotton picking skills are trash. Disappointing, seeing how dark you is.
This Poem is Le Big GAY. Alexa, can we hit Kunta Kinte? Plus Kunta, your cotton is pretty lousy for someone that black
Dis poem does not support my fellow in the field. Suck my 10 inch long. I should stuff it up your with 20 sucks of cotton, gay Tom Hardy, looking .
Shut up, I pick cotton better than you. sucks to be you, seeing how you spent half your life picking it. raRt
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Mr hardy Amazing showcase of poetry, keep it up