An Error

I NEVER said my verse you'd mocked;
Nor how you'd giggled at my grammar-
You, on whom Fame her door has lock'd,
I little mark'd your empty clamour.

I merely said that when you'd call'd
On Fame, and thrice her cruel porters
Had kick's you off, thrice back you crawl'd,
And kiss'd, thrice kiss'd, their hinder-quarters.

Joseph Skipsey 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.