Short Poems

More shower than shine
Brings sweet St. Valentine;
Warm shine, warm shower,
Bring up sweet flower on flower:
Thro' shower & shine
Loves you your Valentine,
Thro' shine, thro' shower,
Thro' summer's flush, thro' Autumn's fading hour.

" Come unto God!" I heard a preacher call:
Immediate God to me,
Who in His bosom lay — " Mind not at all
Such accidents as he —
Mechanical alarum, sightless seer,
Who bids thee come, and knows not thou art here. "

The muffin man walked down our street,
And whom do you think he happened to meet?
John and Ann were standing there,
Both with pennies to spend at the fair.
But when they thought about our tea
They bought muffins for you and me!

The mountains on the screen shimmer in the golden dawn;
A cloud of hair brushes the fragrant snow of her cheek.
Lazily, she rises and paints mothlike brows;
Slowly, tardily, she gets ready for the day.
Mirrors, front and behind, reflect a flower,
Face and flower shining each upon the other.
Stitched in the silk of her bright new coat,
Golden-threaded partridges fly pair by pair.

Most soveren lady, comfort of care,
A next in my hert, most in my minde,
Right welth and cause of my welefare,
Gentle trulove, special and kinde,
Eey pinacle, pight with stidfasteness,
Right tristy, and truth of my salace,
Ever well-springinge stillatorye of sweteness,
Tresore full dere, gronded with grace.

The moon shall be a darkness,
—The stars give no light,
If ever I prove false
—To my heart's delight;
In the middle of the ocean
—Green grow the myrtle tree,
If ever I prove false
—To my Love that loves me.

A monster, in a course of vice grown old,
Leaves to his gaping heir his ill-gained gold:
Straight breathes his bust, straight are his virtues shown,
Their date commencing with the sculptured stone.
If on his specious marble we rely,
Pity a worth like his should ever die!
If credit to his real life we give,
Pity a wretch like him should ever live!

Modestly we violets cower,
Each within a little bower,
Cool and green.
Each contented with the hour,
Welcoming both sun and shower,
In our leafy home unseen.

Misty-moisty was the morn,
Chilly was the weather;
There I met an old man
Dressed all in leather.

Mister Williams
lets youn me move
tother side the house

the woman
choppin woods
mite nigh the awkerdist thing