Health poems
/ page 71 of 85 /Nell Barnes
© William Henry Davies
They lived apart for three long years,
Bill Barnes and Nell his wife;
He took his joy from other girls,
She led a wicked life.
Marion
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
URCHIN of the Syrian face,
And half melancholy grace,
With a look in your dark eyes,
Sometimes deep and overwise;
The Lost Legion
© Rudyard Kipling
There's a Legion that never was 'listed,
That carries no colours or crest,
But, split in a thousand detachments,
Is breaking the road for the rest.
Yvytot
© Eugene Field
Where wail the waters in their flaw
A spectre wanders to and fro,
And evermore that ghostly shore
Bemoans the heir of Yvytot.
Thirty-nine
© Eugene Field
O hapless day! O wretched day!
I hoped you'd pass me by--
Alas, the years have sneaked away
And all is changed but I!
The Bibliomaniac's Bride
© Eugene Field
The women-folk are like to books,--
Most pleasing to the eye,
Whereon if anybody looks
He feels disposed to buy.
Fourteenth Sunday After Trinity
© John Keble
Ten cleansed, and only one remain!
Who would have thought our nature's stain
Prof. vere de blaw
© Eugene Field
Achievin' sech distinction with his moddel tabble dote
Ez to make his Red Hoss Mountain restauraw a place uv note,
Our old friend Casey innovated somewhat round the place,
In hopes he would ameliorate the sufferin's uv the race;
Mr. Dana, of the New York Sun
© Eugene Field
Thar showed up out'n Denver in the spring uv '81
A man who'd worked with Dana on the Noo York Sun.
His name wuz Cantell Whoppers, 'nd he wuz a sight ter view
Ez he walked inter the orfice 'nd inquired fer work ter do.
Inscription for my little son's silver plate
© Eugene Field
When thou dost eat from off this plate,
I charge thee be thou temperate;
Unto thine elders at the board
Do thou sweet reverence accord;
Ed
© Eugene Field
Ed was a man that played for keeps, 'nd when he tuk the notion,
You cudn't stop him any more'n a dam 'ud stop the ocean;
For when he tackled to a thing 'nd sot his mind plum to it,
You bet yer boots he done that thing though it broke the bank to do it!
So all us boys uz knowed him best allowed he wuzn't jokin'
When on a Sunday he remarked uz how he'd gin up smokin'.
Paradise Lost : Book XI.
© John Milton
Thus they, in lowliest plight, repentant stood
Praying; for from the mercy-seat above
A rhine-land drinking song
© Eugene Field
If our own life is the life of a flower
(And that's what some sages are thinking),
We should moisten the bud with a health-giving flood
And 'twill bloom all the sweeter--
A drinking song
© Eugene Field
Come, brothers, share the fellowship
We celebrate to-night;
There's grace of song on every lip
And every heart is light!
Rip Van Winkle. Canto II.
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
So Rip began to look at peopleâs tongues
And thump their briskets (called it âsound their lungs"),
Brushed up his knowledge smartly as he could,
Read in old Cullen and in Doctor Good.
The town was healthy; for a month or two
He gave the sexton little work to do.
Boris Godunov
© Alexander Pushkin
Boyars, The People, Inspectors, Officers, Attendants, Guests,
a Boy in attendance on Prince Shuisky, a Catholic Priest, a
Polish Noble, a Poet, an Idiot, a Beggar, Gentlemen, Peasants,
Guards, Russian, Polish, and German Soldiers, a Russian
Prisoner of War, Boys, an old Woman, Ladies, Serving-women.
Worth Forest
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Come, Prudence, you have done enough to--day--
The worst is over, and some hours of play
We both have earned, even more than rest, from toil;
Our minds need laughter, as a spent lamp oil,
Satire II:The Country Mouse and the Town Mouse
© Sir Thomas Wyatt
MY mother's maids, when they did sew and spin,
They sang sometime a song of the field mouse,
That for because her livelood was but thin [livelihood]
Would needs go seek her townish sister's house.
Of the Mean and Sure Estate
© Sir Thomas Wyatt
My mother's maids, when they did sew and spin,
They sang sometime a song of the field mouse,
That, for because her livelood was but thin,