Poem by Andrew Barton Paterson

A Triolet

Of all the sickly forms of verse, 
Commend me to the triolet. 
It makes bad writers somewhat worse: 
Of all the sickly forms of verse, 
That fall beneath a reader’s curse, 
It is the feeblest jingle yet. 
Of all the sickly forms of verse, 
Commend me to the triolet.

1. With French to Kimberley
2. A Bushman’s Song
3. Fed Up
4. Old Schooldays
5. The Maori’s Wool

Print

1662 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version