Little Aglaë

To Her Father, on Her Statue Being Called Like Her


FATHER! the little girl we see
Is not, I fancy, so like me;
You never hold her on your knee.

When she came home, the other day,
You kiss-d her; but I cannot say
She kiss-d you first and ran away.

Walter Savage Landor 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.