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Let's Meet Then...
Hatching marvels, thee talking instrument of maximal gravity
A bit known stranger on it, defines, “Who am I”...
Trimming me ruthlessly,
Alligating me of dire consequences,
From dusk till dawn,
I picture those eyes.
Of you I keep dreaming on,
To unite both our lives.
With usura hath no man a house of good stone
each block cut smooth and well fitting
I'd be the sun in your moon,
A fire burning in your skies.
Layers of white and orange tune
In petals of flowers yet to bloom.
A Good Soldier
He writes to us most every day, and how his letters thrill us!
I can't describe the joys with which his quaint expressions fill us.
He says the military life is not of his selection,
He's only soldiering to-day to give the Flag protection.
Edgar Albert Guest
The Old Huntsman
I've never ceased to curse the day I signed
A seven years' bargain for the Golden Fleece.
'Twas a bad deal all round; and dear enough
It cost me, what with my daft management,
A Boy Named Sue
Well, my daddy left home when I was three,
and he didn't leave much to Ma and me,
just this old guitar and a bottle of booze.
Now I don't blame him because he run and hid,
A man is at his finest towards the finish of the year;
He is almost what he should be when the Christmas season is here;
Then he's thinking more of others than he's thought the months before,
And the laughter of his children is a joy worth toiling for.
Edgar Albert Guest
Venus And Adonis
Even as the sun with purple-coloured face
Had ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn,
Rose-cheeked Adonis hied him to the chase;
Hunting he loved, but love he laughed to scorn.
Addressed to Francis Greenleaf Allison of Burlington, New Jersey.
You scarcely need my tardy thanks,
Who, self-rewarded, nurse and tend--
John Greenleaf Whittier
With the man I love who loves me not,
I walked in the street-lamps' flare;
We watched the world go home that night
In a flood through Union Square.
Last year he wanted building blocks,
And picture books and toys,
A saddle horse that gayly rocks,
And games for little boys.
Edgar Albert Guest
He gave a picture exhibition,
Hiring a little empty shop.
Above its window: FREE ADMISSION
Cajoled the passers-by to stop;
Some folks I know, when friends drop in
To visit for awhile and chin,
Just lead them round the rooms and halls
And show them pictures on their walls,
Edgar Albert Guest
The witch that came (the withered hag)
To wash the steps with pail and rag,
Was once the beauty Abishag,
I'm sitting alone by the fire,
Dressed just as I came from the dance,
In a robe even YOU would admire,-
It cost a cool thousand in France;
SUDDENLY to become John Benbow, walking down William Street
With a tin trunk and a five-pound note, looking for a place to eat,
And a peajacket the colour of a shark's behind
That a Jew might buy in the morning. . . .
Ode To Rae Wilson Esq.
A WANDERER, Wilson, from my native land,
Remote, O Rae, from godliness and thee,
Where rolls between us the eternal sea,
Besides some furlongs of a foreign sand,â??
In The Factory
Oh, here in the shop the machines roar so wildly,
That oft, unaware that I am, or have been,
I sink and am lost in the terrible tumult;
And void is my soul… I am but a machine.
Blind Old Milton
Place me once more, my daughter, where the sun
May shine upon my old and time-worn head,
For the last time, perchance. My race is run;
And soon amidst the ever-silent dead
William Edmondstoune Aytoun
Should I get married? Should I be Good?
Astound the girl next door with my velvet suit and faustaus hood?
Don't take her to movies but to cemeteries
tell all about werewolf bathtubs and forked clarinets
Regal the earth seems with diamonds today,
Gemming all nature in blazing array;
A picture more fairy-like never could be
Than this wonderful icicle filigree.
Nannie R. Glass
The Gathering Of The Brown-eyed
The brown eyes came from Asia, where all mystery is true,
Ere the masters of Soul Secrets dreamed of hazel, grey, and blue;
And the Brown Eyes came to Egypt, which is called the gypsiesâ?? home,
And the Brown Eyes went from Egypt and Jerusalem to Rome.
Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war
How to divide the conquest of thy sight;
Mine eye my heart thy picture's sight would bar,
My heart mine eye the freedom of that right.
The Baby Ain't Mine
His eyes shines like a chandelier
His skin is smooth like glass
Women gathered and exclaimed "This baby boy is cute enough to be a girl"
But Logan said " The baby ain't mine"
A Dream Of Life
When I was young-long, long ago-
I dreamed myself among the flowers;
And fancy drew the picture so,
They seemed like Fairies in their bowers.
Sam G. Goodrich
While to the clarion blown by Marlowe's breath
Tall Tragedy tramped by in hues of death,
And Shakespeare yet was tuning string by string,
With English hawthorn crowned, in that glad spring
John Le Gay Brereton
I walked out past the door, and I
Was yet to notice it had rain, block eye
Slippery the ground, I fall on to hers affair, romance fair,
Love, started from scratch,
On Receipt Of My Mother's Picture
Oh that those lips had language! Life has pass'd
With me but roughly since I heard thee last.
Those lips are thine-thy own sweet smiles I see,
The same that oft in childhood solaced me;
The House That Was
Of the old house, only a few, crumbled
Courses of brick, smothered in nettle and dock,
Or a shaped stone lying mossy where it tumbled!
Sprawling bramble and saucy thistle mock
Robert Laurence Binyon