All Poems
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No Baby in the House
© Burtchaell Clara G.
No baby in the house, I know, -- 'Tis far too nice and clean;No toys by careless fingers strewn, Upon the floors are seen
Why didn't Ya Say so Before
© Burke Johnny
One night feelin' gay sure I went to a play,Fell in love with a girl in the pit
The Trinity Cake
© Burke Johnny
As I leaned o'er the rail of the Eagle, The letter boy brought unto me,A little gilt edged invitation, Saying the girls want you over to tea,Sure I know the O'Hooligans sent it, And I went, just for ould friendship sakeWhen the first thing they gave me to tackle, Was a slice of the Trinity Cake
Oh, My Goodie Gracious
© Burke Johnny
Oh, herself Anastatia felt mopish and queer, She hadn't been well, I should say, for a year,The bright healthy color is gone from her cheek, And it's only just once in a year that she'll speak
Loss of the S.S. Regulus
© Burke Johnny
Ye daring sons of Newfoundland, That fear not storm or seaPlease hearken for a moment And attention give to me,While I explain in language plain, That filled hearts with dismay,Of how the Regulus got lost In Petty Harbor Bay
The Kelligrews Soiree
© Burke Johnny
You may talk of Clara Nolan's ball, Or anything you chooseBut it couldn't hold a snuff-box To the spree in Kelligrews
If Your Wife Is Run Down, Give Her Cod Liver Oil
© Burke Johnny
I'm a young married man, Who is tired of my life,Ten years I'm glued on To a pale sickly wife,She does nothing all day, Only sit down and cry,And I hope to the Lord She'll get better or die.
The Rubaiyat of Omar Cayenne
© Gelett Burgess
WAKE! For the Hack can scatter into flightShakespere and Dante in a single Night! The Penny-a-liner is Abroad, and strikesOur Modern Literature with blithering Blight.
To her friends said the Bright one in chatter
© Buller A. H. Reginald
To her friends said the Bright one in chatter,"I have learned something new about matter: My speed was so great, Much increased was my weight,Yet I failed to become any fatter!"
Relativity
© Buller A. H. Reginald
There was a young lady named BrightWhose speed was far faster than light; She set out one day, In a relative wayAnd returned on the previous night.
Geert
© Buckton Alice Mary
They brought him in at midnight, Across the saddle-bow --Geert of the ripe and chestnut hair, Geert of the sunny brow!
The Pied Piper of Hamelin: A Child's Story
© Robert Browning
(Written for, and inscribed to, W. M. the Younger)
Give a Rouse
© Robert Browning
King Charles, and who'll do him right now?King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now?Give a rouse: here's, in Hell's despite now,King Charles!
The Bishop Orders his Tomb at Saint Praxed's Church Rome, 15--
© Robert Browning
Vanity, saith the preacher, vanity!Draw round my bed: is Anselm keeping back?Nephews--sons mine
Sonnets from the Portuguese: XXXVIII
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
First time he kissed me, he but only kissedThe fingers of this hand wherewith I write;And ever since, it grew more clean and white,Slow to world-greetings, quick with its
Sonnets from the Portuguese: XXXVII
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Pardon, oh, pardon, that my soul should makeOf all that strong divineness which I knowFor thine and thee, an image only soFormed of the sand, and fit to shift and break
Sonnets from the Portuguese: XXXVI
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
When we met first and loved, I did not buildUpon the event with marble
Sonnets from the Portuguese: XXXV
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchangeAnd be all to me? Shall I never missHome-talk and blessing and the common kissThat comes to each in turn, nor count it strange,When I look up, to drop on a new rangeOf walls and floors, another home than this?Nay, wilt thou fill that place by me which isFilled by dead eyes too tender to know change?That's hardest
Sonnets from the Portuguese: XXXIX
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Because thou hast the power and own'st the graceTo look through and behind this mask of me(Against which, years have beat thus blanchinglyWith their rains,) and behold my soul's true face,The dim and weary witness of life's race,-Because thou hast the faith and love to see,Through that same soul's distracting lethargy,The patient angel waiting for a placeIn the new Heavens,-because nor sin nor woe,Nor God's infliction, nor death's neighbourhood,Nor all which others viewing, turn to go,Nor all which makes me tired of all, self-viewed,-Nothing repels thee,
