Short Poems

Hickory, dickory, dock,
The mouse ran up the clock;
The clock struck one,
The mouse ran down,
Hickory, dickory, dock.

Hickety pickety i sillickety
Pompalorum jig,
Every man who has no hair
Generally wears a wig,
One, two, three,
Out--goes--he.

Hey, diddle, diddle,
The cat and the fiddle,
The cow jumped over the moon;
The little dog laughed
To see such sport,
And the dish ran away with the spoon.

Hetero-sex is best for the man of a serious turn of mind,
But here's a hint, if you should fancy the other:
Turn Menophila round in bed, address her peachy behind.
And it's easy to pretend you're screwing her brother.

Heroic soul, in homely garb half hid,
Sincere, sagacious, melancholy, quaint;
What he endured, no less than what he did,
Has reared his monument, and crowned him saint.

H ERE'S to the town of New Haven,
— The home of the Truth and the Light,
Where God talks to Jones in the very same tones
— That He uses with Hadley and Dwight!

Here lies a most beautiful lady,
Light of step and heart was she;
I think she was the most beautiful lady
That ever was in the West Country.
But beauty vanishes; beauty passes;
However rare—rare it be;
And when I crumble, who will remember
This lady of the West Country?

Here lies the Devil--ask no other name.
Well--but you mean Lord--? Hush! we mean the same.

He says, My reign is peace, so slays
A thousand in the dead of night.
Are you all happy now? he says,
And those he leaves behind cry quite.
He swears he will have no contention,
And sets all nations by the ears;
He shouts aloud, No intervention!
Invades, and drowns them all in tears.

WHO DESIRED THAT ON HIS TOMB SHOULD BE INSCRIBED--
'Here lieth One whose name was writ on water.'
But, ere the breath that could erase it blew,
Death, in remorse for that fell slaughter,
Death, the immortalizing winter, flew
Athwart the stream,--and time's printless torrent grew
A scroll of crystal, blazoning the name
Of Adonais!