Short Poems

"Cherry-ripe, ripe, ripe', I cry,
"Full and fair ones; come and buy':
If so be you ask me where
They do grow, I answer, "There,
Where my Julia's lips do smile;
There's the land or cherry-isle,
Whose plantations fully show
All the year where cherries grow.'

Bring me my rose-buds, drawer, come;
So while I thus sit crown'd,
I'll drink the aged Cecubum,
Until the roof turn round.

He ate and drank the precious words,
His spirit grew robust;
He knew no more that he was poor,
Nor that his frame was dust.
He danced along the dingy days,
And this bequest of wings
Was but a book. What liberty
A loosened spirit brings!

Here , Cyprian, is my jeweled looking-glass,
My final gift to bind my final vow:
I cannot see myself as I once was;
I would not see myself as I am now.

Hello, Somebody, hello! 1. There's
Somebody knocking at the garden gate;
2. Somebody wants to know mah name;
Hel lo, Somebody, hel lo!
There's Somebody knocking at the garden gate;
Somebody wants to know mah name;
Hel lo, Somebody, hel lo!

Hector Protector was dressed all in green;
Hector Protector was sent to the Queen.
The Queen did not like him,
No more did the King;
So Hector Protector was sent back again.

The heavyweight champ of Seattle
Defeated a bull in a battle,
Then with vigor and gumption
Assumed the bull's function
And deflowered a whole herd of cattle.

Heave away, heave away!
I'd rather court a yellow gal than work for Henry Clay.
Heave away, heave away!.... Yellow gal, I want to go,
I'd rather court a yellow gal than work for Henry Clay.
Heave away! Yellow gal, I want to go!

He unto whom thou art so partial,
Oh, reader! is the well-known Martial,
The Epigrammatist: while living,
Give him the fame thou wouldst be giving;
So shall he hear, and feel, and know it--
Post-obits rarely reach a poet.

He that would thrive
Must rise at five;
He that hath thriven
May lie till seven;
He that will never thrive
May lie till eleven.