If thou didst feed on western plains of yore
Or waddle wide with flat and flabby feet
Over some Cambrian mountain’s plashy moor,
Or find in farmer’s yard a safe retreat
From gipsy thieves and foxes sly and fleet;
If thy grey quills by lawyer guided, trace
Deeds big with ruin to some wretched race,
Or love-sick poet’s sonnet, sad and sweet,
Wailing the rigour of some lady fair;
Or if, the drudge of housemaid’s daily toil,
Cobwebs and dust thy pinion white besoil,
Departed goose! I neither know nor care.
But this I know, that thou wert very fine,
Seasoned with sage and onions and port wine.
(Robert Southey)
More Poetry from Robert Southey:
Robert Southey Poems based on Topics: Sadness, Fairness, Wine- A Ballad, Shewing How An Old Woman Rode Double, And Who Rode Before Her (Robert Southey Poems)
- English Eclogues V - The Witch (Robert Southey Poems)
- English Eclogues I - The Old Mansion-House (Robert Southey Poems)
- English Eclogues IV - The Sailor's Mother (Robert Southey Poems)
- English Eclogues VI - The Ruined Cottage (Robert Southey Poems)
- English Eclogues II - The Grandmother's Tale (Robert Southey Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Sadness Poems, Fairness Poems, Wine PoemsBased on Keywords: lawyer, love-sick, pinion, housemaid, plashy, seasoned, quills, flabby, drudge, cambrian