Epigram

When Congress had fled in a Fright from their Foes,
The Quakers they thought to snug under the Rose .
But Billy , who sees with the Glance of an Eye,
Soon found though the Quakers were grave, they were sly:
Resolv'd to distinguish the good from the bad ,
I'll sift 'em, he cries, if there's sieves to be had!
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.