Short Poems

1. Hark! 'Tis the Saviour of mankind Speaks to his chosen few;
3. " Yes, should deception still prevail, And blind the people's eyes,
'Tis he who leads the wandering blind In ways they could not know.
In my great day I'll rend the veil From all beneath the skies.
2. 'Tis he who says, " Go forth my friends, Proclaim my truth and grace;
4. " Then every eye shall see the grace You now in faith declare.
Inform each soul my love extends To all of Adam's race.
And I myself, from every face, Will wipe off every tear. "

Hardly a man is now alive
Who recalls that in 1795
Occurred the death of a Mr. James Boswell;
A joke on his doctor, who'd thought that he was well.

Happy New Year! Happy New Year!
I've come to wish you a Happy New Year.
I've got a little pocket and it is very thin,
Please give me a penny to put some money in.
If you haven't got a penny, a halfpenny will do,
If you haven't got a halfpenny, well —
God Bless You!

The Hand of Art here torpid lies
That wav'd th' essential Form of Grace,
Here death has clos'd the curious eyes
That saw the manners in the face.
If Genius warm thee, Reader, stay,
If Merit touch thee, shed a tear,
Be Vice and Dulness far away
Great Hogarth's honour'd Dust is here.

Had there been falsehood in my breast
No thorns had marred my road,
This spirit had not lost its rest,
These tears had never flowed.

The Russian bear is huge and wild,
He has devoured the infant child,
The infant child is not aware
It has been eaten by the bear.

The grey beards wag, the bald heads nod,
And gather thick as bees,
To talk electrons, gases, God,
Old nebulae, new fleas.
Each specialist, each dry-as-dust
And professorial oaf,
Holds up his little crumb of crust
And cries, " Behold the loaf!"

My heart troubled
by the sound of the waves,
I spend the night,
my only friend the moon's light
winnowing through this hut.

Green Buddhas
On the fruit stand.
We eat the smile
And spit out the teeth.

The greatest saints and sinners have been made
Of proselytes of one another's trade.