Joy and Pleasure
Now, joy is born of parents poor,
And pleasure of our richer kind;
Though pleasure’s free, she cannot sing
As sweet a song as joy confined.
Pleasure’s a Moth, that sleeps by day
And dances by false glare at night;
But Joy’s a Butterfly, that loves
To spread its wings in Nature’s light.
Joy’s like a Bee that gently sucks
Away on blossoms its sweet hour;
But pleasure’s like a greedy Wasp,
That plums and cherries would devour.
Joy’s like a Lark that lives alone,
Whose ties are very strong, though few;
But Pleasure like a Cuckoo roams,
Makes much acquaintance, no friends true.
Joy from her heart doth sing at home,
With little care if others hear;
But pleasure then is cold and dumb,
And sings and laughs with strangers near
William Henry Davies
Born: 3 July 1871, Newport, Wales
Nationality: Welsh
Died: 26 September 1940, Gloucestershire, England
Davies was a poet and writer. He spent much of his life as a tramp or hobo in the UK and the USA yet became one of the most popular poets of his time. His themes included his observations on life’s hardships, the human condition reflected in nature his travels as a tramp, and the characters he met. Davies is classified as a Georgian Poet, however much of his writing is not typical of the group in style and theme
Jezzie G 