Poems (Tennyson, 1843)/Volume 2/The Skipping Rope

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Sure never yet was Antelope
Could skip so lightly by.
Stand off, or else my skipping-rope
Will hit you in the eye.
How lightly whirls the skipping-rope!
How fairy-like you fly!
Go, get you gone, you muse and mope—
I hate that silly sigh.
Nay, dearest, teach me how to hope,
Or tell me how to die.
There, take it, take my skipping-rope,
And hang yourself thereby.

This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.

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