Poetry Books

To One Who Sleeps (Obiit, June 8th, 1894.) Tho' storm and summer shine for long have shedOr blight or bloom above thy quiet bed,Tho' loneliness and longing cry thee dead—Thou art not dead, belovèd. Still with meAre whilom hopings that encompass theeAnd dreams of dear delights that may not be.Asleep—adream perchance, dost thou forgetThe sometime sorrow and the fevered fret,Sting of salt... more...

NAUGHTY PUPPIESTiny and his Parents.There were two little puppy dogs,“Tiny” named, and “Toodles,”Who got into all kinds of scrapes,Like little foolish noodles.Tiny was a brownish dog,And Toodles was a white one;And Tiny had a cunning eye,And Toodles had a bright one.Tiny played all kinds of tricks.For which his parents chid him:And Toodles did—poor, foolish pup—Whatever Tiny bid him.... more...

SUPPRESSED POEMS. THE JOURNALISTS AND MINOS. I chanced the other eve,—But how I ne'er will tell,—The paper to receive.That's published down in hell. In general one may guess,I little care to seeThis free-corps of the pressGot up so easily; But suddenly my eyesA side-note chanced to meet,And fancy my surpriseAt reading in the sheet:— "For twenty weary springs"(The post from... more...

THE DONG WITH A LUMINOUS NOSE. When awful darkness and silence reignOver the great Gromboolian plain,Through the long, long wintry nights; When the angry breakers roarAs they beat on the rocky shore;When Storm-clouds brood on the towering heights Of the Hills of the Chankly Bore,— Then, through the vast and gloomy darkThere moves what seems a fiery spark,—A lonely spark with silvery rays Piercing... more...

upon a time I visited Fairy-land and spent a day in Goblin-town. The people there are much like ourselves, only they are very, very small and roguish. They play pranks on one another and have great fun. They are good natured and jolly, and rarely get angry. But if one does get angry, he quickly recovers his good nature and joins again in the sport. If a Goblin should continue angry he would take on some... more...

THE THREE JOVIAL HUNTSMEN.          It's of three jovial huntsmen, an' a hunting they did go;An' they hunted, an' they hollo'd, an' they blew their horns alsoLook ye there!An' one said, "Mind yo'r e'en, an' keep yo'r noses reet i' th' windAn' then, by scent or seet, we'll leet o' summat to our mind."Look ye... more...

POLLY PUT THE KETTLE ON [Listen] [PDF] [MusicXML]  Polly, put the kettle on,Polly, put the kettle on,Polly, put the kettle on,We’ll all have tea. Sukey, take it off again,Sukey, take it off again,Sukey, take it off again,They’ve all gone away. [Listen] [PDF] [MusicXML]  Hot Cross Buns!Hot Cross Buns!One a penny, two a penny,Hot Cross Buns!If you have no daughters,If you have no daughters,If you... more...

MOLLIE CHARANE “O, Mollie Charane, where got you your gold?”   Lone, lone you have left me here.“O not in the curragh, deep under the mould.”   Lone, lone, and void of cheer. “O, Mollie Charane, where got you your stock?”   Lone, lone you have left me here.“O not in the curragh from under a block.”   Lone, lone, and void of cheer. “O, Mollie Charane, where got you your... more...

Oh, ye, who so lately were blythesome and gay,At the Butterfly’s Banquet, carousing away;Your feasts and your revels of pleasure are fled,For the soul of the Banquet, the Butterfly’s dead.No longer the Flies and the Emmets advance,To join with their friends in the Grasshopper’s dance;For see, his thin form o’er the favourite bend,And the Grasshopper mourns for the loss of his friend.And hark, to... more...

This is the House that Jack built. This is the Malt, that lay in the House that Jack built. This is the Rat, that eat the Malt, that lay in the House that Jack built. This is the Cat, that killed the Rat, that eat the Malt, that lay in the House that Jack built. This is the Dog, that worried the Cat, that killed the Rat, that eat the Malt, that lay in the House that Jack built. This is the Cow with the... more...