All Poems
/ page 74 of 3210 /On Sixe Cambridge Lasses Bathinge Themselfes by Queenes Colledge on the 25th of June at Night and Espied by a Scholer
© Thomas Randolph
When bashfull daylight now was goneAnd night, that hides a blush, came on
Wishes of an Elderly Man Wished at a Garden Party, June 1914
© Raleigh Walter Alexander
I wish I loved the Human Race;I wish I loved its silly face;I wish I liked the way it walks;I wish I liked the way it talks;And when I'm introduced to oneI wish I thought What Jolly Fun!
To a Lady with an Unruly and Ill-mannered Dog Who Bit several Persons of Importance
© Raleigh Walter Alexander
Your dog is not a dog of grace;He does not wag the tail or beg;He bit Miss Dickson in the face;He bit a Bailie in the leg.
Stans Puer ad Mensam
© Raleigh Walter Alexander
Attend my words, my gentle knave, And you shall learn from meHow boys at dinner may behave With due propriety.
Song of Myself
© Raleigh Walter Alexander
I was a Poet!But I did not know it,Neither did my Mother,Nor my Sister nor my Brother
Sestina Otiosa
© Raleigh Walter Alexander
Our great work, the Otia Merseiana,Edited by learned Mister Sampson,And supported by Professor Woodward,Is financed by numerous Bogus MeetingsHastily convened by Kuno MeyerTo impose upon the Man of Business
On Being Challenged to Write an Epigram in the Manner of Herrick
© Raleigh Walter Alexander
To Griggs, that learned man, in many a bygone session,His kids were his delight, and physics his profession;Now Griggs, grown old and glum, and less intent on knowledge,Physics himself at home, and sends his kids to college
My Last Will
© Raleigh Walter Alexander
When I am safely laid away,Out of work and out of play,Sheltered by the kindly groundFrom the world of sight and sound,One or two of those I leaveWill remember me and grieve,Thinking how I made them gayBy the things I used to say;-- But the crown of their distressWill be my untidiness
A Literature Lesson. Sir Patrick Spens In the Eighteenth Century Manner
© Raleigh Walter Alexander
VERSE IA prosperous port contiguous to the strand,A monarch feasted in right royal state;But care still dogs the pleasures of the Great,And well his faithful servants could surmiseFrom his distracted looks and broken sighsThat though the purple bowl was circling free,His mind was prey to black perplexity
The Artist
© Raleigh Walter Alexander
The Artist and his Luckless WifeThey lead a horrid haunted life,Surrounded by the things he's madeThat are not wanted by the trade.
Prais'd be Diana's Fair and Harmless Light
© Ralegh Sir Walter
Prais'd be Diana's fair and harmless light;Prais'd be the dews wherewith she moists the ground;Prais'd be her beams, the glory of the night;Prais'd be her power by which all powers abound.
The Passionate Man's Pilgrimage
© Ralegh Sir Walter
[Supposed to be written by one at the point of death]
The Nymph's Reply
© Ralegh Sir Walter
If all the world and love were young,And truth in every shepherd's tongue,These pretty pleasures might me moveTo live with thee and be thy love.
As You Came from the Holy Land (attributed)
© Ralegh Sir Walter
As you came from the holy land Of Walsingham,Met you not with my true love By the way as you came?
Soliloquy of a Maiden Aunt
© Radford Dollie
The ladies bow, and partners set,And turn around and pirouette And trip the Lancers.
For Windows by L. D.
© Radford Dollie
Arising from her jewelled bower, Dawn steps from out the flaming sky,And in her hand are hopes that flower, And at her feet the hours that die.
December
© Radford Dollie
No gardener need go far to find The Christmas rose,The fairest of the flowers that mark The sweet Year's close:Nor be in quest of places where The hollies grow,Nor seek for sacred trees that hold The mistletoe
To A Lady, She Refusing to Continue a Dispute with me, and Leaving me in the Argument: An Ode
© Matthew Prior
Spare, gen'rous victor, spare the slave, Who did unequal war pursue;That more than triumph he might have, In being overcome by you.
To a Child of Quality, Five Years Old, the Author Suppos'd Forty
© Matthew Prior
Lords, knights, and squires, the num'rous band, That wear the fair Miss Mary's fetters,Were summon'd by her high command, To show their passions by their letters.
Pack up your Troubles in your Old Kit-bag
© Powell George Henry
Private Perks is a funny little codger With a smile, a funny smile