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A Drinking Reed
I fetch a friend to send to sea
and see a reed reckoning
the profits of drink.
How much to expect of vice?
I found all my desire
quite spoiled by reason.
Poems on the topic: vice
Poems on the topic “vice” on Poets.by.
Fleet
A fair fleet fell into vice.
Frigates did us in, broke,
creeping at the scuttle,
the sea exceeding us
in business and in bed.
On the Road
Roar of the rushing train fearfully rocking,
Impatient people jammed in line for food,
The rasping noise of cars together knocking,
And worried waiters, some in ugly mood,
Crowding into the choking pantry hole
To call out dishes for each angry glutton
Exasperated grown beyond control,
From waiting for his soup or fish or mutton.
At last the station’s reached, the engine stops;
For bags and wraps the red-caps circle round;
From off the step the passenger lightly hops,
And seeks his cab or tram-car homeward bound;
The waiters pass out weary, listless, glum,
To spend their tips on harlots, cards and rum.
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