On Riding to See Dean Swift in the Mist of the Morning

How foolish men on expeditions go!
Unweeting wantons of their wetting woe!
For drizzling damps descend adown the plain
And seem a thicker dew, or thinner rain;
Yet dew or rain may wet us to the shift,
We'll not be slow to visit Dr Swift.
Rate this poem: 


No reviews yet.