'Tis very odd that poets should suppose
There is no poetry about a nose,
When plain as is the nose upon your face,
A noseless face would lack poetic grace.
Noses have sympathy: a lover knows
Noses are always touched when lips are kissing:
And who would care to kiss where nose was missing?
Why, what would be the fragrance of a rose,
And where would be our mortal means of telling
Whether a vile or wholesome odour flows
Around us, if we owned no sense of smelling?
I know a nose, a nose no other knows,
'Neath starry eyes, o'er ruby lips it grows;
Beauty is in its form and music in its blows.
Notes
appeared in the Irish Penny Journal of Nov. 28, 1840 - author unknown
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Well the nose has been written about, mark that off the list. What is next? Chesterton suggested that we've been remarkably silent on the subject of cheese, guess I'll type it in the search engine and see what comes up!
Nothing like a good, funny poem after a long day at work.
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