Short Poems

Go to bed early wake up with joy;
Go to bed late — cross girl or boy.
Go to bed early — ready for play;
Go to bed late — moping all day.
Go to bed early — no pains or ills;
Go to bed late — doctors and pills.
Go to bed early — grow very tall;
Go to bed late — stay very small.

Go, smiling souls, your new-built cages break,
In heaven you'll learn to sing, ere here to speak,
Nor let the milky fonts that bathe your thirst
Be your delay;
The place that calls you hence is, at the worst,
Milk all the way.

Go, happy rose, and wreathe my dear friend's brow;
Not only now,
But when his shining locks have turned to grey,
(Though distant be that day!)
So, from this hour,
Be love's own flower.

Gleaming in silver are the hills,
Blazing in silver is the sea,
And a silvery radiance spills
Where the moon drives royally.
Clad in silver tissue I
March magnificently by.

Offer up
cherry blossoms
to the deceased,
if anyone wishes to mourn me
after I'm gone.

Give me a boy whose tender skin
Owes its fresh bloom to youth, not art;
And for his sake may no girl win
A corner in my heart.

The gifts that to our breasts we fold
— Are brightened by our losses.
The sweetest joys a heart can hold
— Grow up between its crosses.
And on life's pathway many a mile
— Is made more glad and cheery,
Because, for just a little while,
— The way seemed dark and dreary.

The Germans, in Greek,
Are sadly to seek;
Not five in five score,
But ninety-five more,--
All, save only Hermann,
And Hermann's a German.

Funny, how Felicia Ropps
Always handles things in shops!
Always pinching, always poking,
Always feeling, always stroking
Things she has no right to touch!
Goops like that annoy me much!

Fruitful Earth drinks up the rain,
Trees from Earth drink that again,
The Sea drinks the Air, the Sun
Drinks the Sea, and him the Moon:
Is it reason then d'ee think
I should thirst when all else drink?