Short Poems

There was an Old Person of Blythe,
Who cut up his meat with a scythe;
When they said, " Well! I never!" — he cried, " Scythes for ever!"
That lively Old Person of Blythe.

There was an Old Person of Bar,
Who passed all her life in a jar,
Which she painted pea-green, to appear more serene,
That placid Old Person of Bar.

There was an Old Man on the Border,
Who lived in the utmost disorder;
He danced with the Cat,
And made tea in his Hat,
Which vexed all the folks on the Border.

There was an Old Man in a tree,
Who was horribly bored by a bee;
When they said, "Does it buzz?'
He replied, "Yes, it does!
It's a regular brute of a bee!'

There was an Old Man in a boat,
Who said, " I'm afloat! I'm afloat! "
When they said, " No! you ain't! " he was ready to faint,
That unhappy Old Man in a boat.

There was a Young Lady whose eyes
Were unique as to colour and size;
When she opened them wide,
People all turned aside,
And started away in surprise.

There are three things that make me think;
things beyond all poetry:
A yellow space or rift in evening sky:
A chimney or pinnacle high in the air;
And a path over a hill.

Hide thou thy face in clouds and mysteries
Wield as thou wilt thy power that makes and mars
But hear, that in thy roaring wheel of stars
One atom dares to love thee ere it dies.

Do I say no-one has loved as I love?
I believe thousands have loved as I love
And if thousands have loved a thousand times more than I love
Why so much the better.

There was an old person of Lapland
Who objected to see on a map land
If that were only all sea
Then mankind would be free
This idealist person of Lapland.