Old Poetry Poetry • Poets • Essays • Forums •

Egyptian Christmas

Haughty Sphinx, whose amber eyes
Hold the secrets of the skies,
As thou ripplest in thy grace,
Round the chairs and chimney-place,
Scorn on thy patrician face:
Rise not harsh, nor use thy claws
On the hand that gives applause—
Good-will only doth abide
In these lines at Christmastide!

Leave a guest comment (subject to review)

    : Comment:

    Name: (required)
    Email: (required, hidden from spam)

Comments

  • Dead Kennedy Rolls
    January 27, 2005
    Edit | Reply
    you said it... uh what? yeh, it was good, but in my eyes, pointless