Classic Poem

THOU HAST BEEN very tender to the Moon,
Malvolio! and on many a daffodil
And many a daisy hast thou yearned until
The nether jaw quivered with thy good heart.
But tell me now, Malvolio, tell me true,
Hast thou not sometimes driven from their play
The village children, when they came too near
Thy study, if hit ball rais'd shouts around,
Or if delusive trap shook off thy Muse
Pregnant with wonders for another age?
Hast thou sat still and patient (tho' sore prest
Hearthward to stoop and warm thy blue-nail'd hand)
Lest thou should frighten from a frosty fare
The speckled thrush, raising his bill aloft
To swallow the red berry on the ash
By thy white window, three short paces off?
If this thou hast not done, and hast done that ,
I do exile thee from the Moon twelve whole
Calendar months, debarring thee from use
Of rose, bud blossom, odor, simile,
And furthermore I do hereby pronounce
Divorce between the nightingale and thee.