The Skipping-Rope Poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
The Skipping-Rope
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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4/23/2024 10:01:32 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Tell me how to die