Short Poems

There's many a man killed on the railroad, railroad, railroad,
There's many a man killed on the railroad,
An cast in a lonely grave.

Therefore, when thou wouldst pray, or dost thine alms,
Blow not a trump before thee: Hypocrites
Do thus, vaingloriously; the common streets
Boast of their largess, echoing their psalms.
On such the laud of men, like unctuous balms,
Falls with sweet savor. Impious Counterfeits!
Prating of heaven, for earth their bosom beats!
Grasping at weeds, they lose immortal palms!

There was an Old Person whose habits
Induced him to feed upon rabbits;
When he'd eaten eighteen,
He turned perfectly green,
Upon which he relinquished those habits.

There was an Old Person of Wick,
Who said, " Tick-a-Tick, Tick-a-Tick,
Chickabee, Chickabaw." And he said, nothing more,
That laconic Old Person of Wick.

There was an Old Person of Twickenham,
Who whipped his four horses to quicken 'em;
When they stood on one leg, he said faintly, " I beg
We may go back directly to Twickenham."

There was an Old Person of Skye,
Who waltz'd with a Bluebottle fly;
They buzz'd a sweet tune, to the light of the moon,
And entranced all the people of Skye.

There was an Old Person of Shoreham,
Whose habits were marked by decorum;
He bought an umbrella, and sat in the cellar,
Which pleased all the people of Shoreham.

There was an Old Person of Harrow,
Who bought a mahogany barrow;
For he said to his wife, " You're the joy of my life!
And I'll wheel you all day in this barrow!"

There was an Old Person of Grange,
Whose manners were scroobious and strange;
He sailed to St. Blubb, in a waterproof tub,
That aquatic Old Person of Grange.

There was an Old Person of Ewell,
Who chiefly subsisted on gruel;
But to make it more nice, he inserted some mice,
Which refreshed that Old Person of Ewell.