Short Poems

Now another day is breaking,
Sleep was sweet and so is waking.
Dear Lord, I promised you last night
Never again to sulk or fight.
Such vows are easier to keep
When a child is sound asleep.
Today, O Lord, for your dear sake,
I'll try to keep them when awake.

Not least, 't is ever my delight
To drink the early morning light;
To take the air upon my tongue
And taste it while the day is young.
So let my solace be the breath
Of morning, when I move to death.

Not Jerusalem — lowly Bethlehem,
'Twas that gave us Christ to save us.
Not Jerusalem favored Bethlehem,
Honored is that name.
Thence came Jesus to release us,
Favored Bethlehem.

A North Wales girl was once my passion.
She'd got two costumes, both in fashion,
Two matching hats as well, the peach,
And two false faces under each.

Noon on the mountain!—
And all the crags are husky faces powerful with love for the sun;
All the shadows
Whisper of the sun.

No slightest golden rhyme he wrote
That held not something men must quote;
Thus by desigNor chance did he
Drop anchors to posterity.

No rock along the road but knows
The inquisition of his toes;
No journey's end but what can say:
He paused and rested here a day!
No joy is there that you may meet
But what will say: His kiss was sweet!
No sorrow but will sob to you:
He knew me intimately too. . . . !

"No, no; for my virginity,
When I lose that,' says Rose, "I'll die':
"Behind the elms last night,' cried Dick,
"Rose, were you not extremely sick?'

There was an old lady of Leeds,
Who was always a'doing good deeds;
She sate on some rocks with her feet in a box,
And her neck was surrounded by beads.

No more of your titled acquaintances boast,
Nor of the gay groups you have seen;
A crab louse is but a crab louse at last,
Tho' stack to the of a Queen.