Poems begining by L

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Little Popeet - the Lost Child

© William Topaz McGonagall

Near by the silent waters of the Mediterranean,
And at the door of an old hut stood a coloured man,
Whose dress was oriental in style and poor with wear,
While adown his furrowed cheeks ran many a tear.

Little Pierre's Song

© William Topaz McGonagall

In a humble room in London sat a pretty little boy,
By the bedside of his sick mother her only joy,
Who was called Little Pierre, and who's father was dead;
There he sat poor boy, hungry and crying for bread.

Little Jamie

© William Topaz McGonagall

Ither laddies may ha's finer claes, and may be better fed,
But nane o' them a'has sic a bonnie curly heid,
O sie a blythe blink in their e'e,
As my ain curly fair-hair'd laddie, Little Jamie.

Lines in Praise of Tommy Atkins

© William Topaz McGonagall

Success to Tommy Atkins, he's a very brave man,
And to deny it there's few people can;
And to face his foreign foes he's never afraid,
Therefore he's not a beggar, as Rudyard Kipling has said.

Lines in Praise of the Lyric Club Banquet

© William Topaz McGonagall

'Twas in the year of 1894, and on the 5th of September,
Which for a long time I will remember,
And the gentlemen I entertained in the city of Perth,
Which is one of the grandest cities upon the earth.

Lines in Praise of Professor Blackie

© William Topaz McGonagall

Alas! the people's hearts are now full of sorrow
For the deceased Professor Blackie, of Edinboro';
Because he was a Christian man, affable and kind,
And his equal in charitable actions would be hard to find

Lines in Praise of Mr. J. Graham Henderson, Hawick

© William Topaz McGonagall

Success to Mr J. Graham Henderson, who is a good man,
And to gainsay it there's few people can,
I say so from my own experience,
And experience is a great defence.

Lines in Defence of the Stage

© William Topaz McGonagall

Good people of high and low degree,
I pray ye all be advised by me,
And don't believe what the clergy doth say,
That by going to the theatre you will be led astray.

Length of Moon

© Arna Bontemps

Then the golden hour
Will tick its last
And the flame will go down in the flower.
A briefer length of moon

Little Puddleton

© Robert William Service

Let others sing of Empire and of pomp beyond the sea,
A song of Little Puddleton is good enough for me,
A song of kindly living, and of coming home to tea.

Little Moccasins

© Robert William Service

Come out, O Little Moccasins, and frolic on the snow!
Come out, O tiny beaded feet, and twinkle in the light!
I'll play the old Red River reel, you used to love it so:
Awake, O Little Moccasins, and dance for me to-night!

Last Look

© Robert William Service

What would I choose to see when I
To this bright earth shall bid good-bye?
When fades forever from my sight
The world I've loved with long delight?
What would I pray to look on last,
When Death shall draw the Curtain fast?

Land Mine

© Robert William Service

A grey gull hovered overhead,
Then wisely flew away.
'In half a jiffy you'll be dead,'
I thought I heard it say;

Local Lad

© Robert William Service

I never saw a face so bright
With brilliant blood and joy,
As was the grinning mug last night
Of Dick, our local boy,
When with a clumsy, lucky clout
He knocked the champion out.

Lost Shepherd

Ah me! How hard is destiny!
If we could only know. . . .
I bought my son from Sicily
A score of years ago;

Lucindy Jane

When I was young I was too proud
To wheel my daughter in her pram.
"It's infra dig," I said aloud,--
Bot now I'm old, behold I am
Perambulating up and down
Grand-daughter through the town.

Learn To Like

School yourself to savour most
Joys that have but little cost;
Prove the best of life is free,
Sun and stars and sky and sea;

L'Envoi

Ever in the ebb and flow
Of my dreams that come and go,
Reader, I have you in mind,
Humbly hoping you will find
In my verse a gleam that's true
To the dreams that live in you.

L'Escargot D'Or

O Tavern of the Golden Snail!
Ten sous have I, so I'll regale;
Ten sous your amber brew to sip
(Eight for the bock and two the tip),

Lindy Lou

If the good King only knew,
Lindy Lou,
What a cherub child are you,
It is true,

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