The Poor Old Cannon

}
};






Upbroke the sun
In red-gold foam;
Thus spoke the gun
At the Soldier's Home:

"Whenever I hear
Blue thunder speak
My voice sounds clear
But little and weak.

"And when the proud
Young cockerels crow
My voice sounds loud,
But gentle and low.

"When the mocking-bird
Prolongs his note
I cannot be heard
Though I split my throat."

Elinor Morton Wylie The copyright of the poems published here are belong to their poets. Internetpoem.com is a non-profit poetry portal. All information in here has been published only for educational and informational purposes.