Short Poems

It has no voice,—the butterfly,
Whose dream of flow'rs I fain would learn.

Way down South where bananas grow,
A grasshopper stepped on an elephant's toe.
The elephant said, with tears in his eyes,
"Pick on somebody your own size."

He who has seen little
Is easily astonished.
He sees a camel and exclaims:
“A horse with a swollen back!”

I had two pigeons bright and gay,
They flew from me the other day;
What was the reason they did go?
I cannot tell for I do not know.

P OËTS are supreme heads; & royall things;
Whose subjects are the best of Queens & kings
Best soules to you most subiect are: & thus
More perfect you; more subiect still for vs.

Thus puppies that adore the dark
Against bright Cynthia howl and bark,
Although the regent of the night,
Like us, is gay with borrowed light.

There was an Old Man at a Station,
Who made a promiscuous oration;
But they said, ‘Take some snuff!—You have talk'd quite enough,
You afflicting Old Man at a Station!’

[Rubens had been a Statesman or a Saint]
I Rubens am a Statesman & a Saint
[He mixd them both & so he Learnd to Paint]
Deceptions? O no — so Ill learn to Paint

In the Shenandoah Valley, one rider gray and one rider blue, and the sun on the riders wondering.

Piled in the Shenandoah, riders blue and riders gray, piled with shovels, one and another, dust in the Shenandoah taking them quicker than mothers take children done with play.

The blue nobody remembers, the gray nobody remembers, it's all old and old nowadays in the Shenandoah.

Feeling constricted by the dusty city,
we take a trip to the eastern villages.
The Three Sprouts have not yet matured,
though the harvest of the Two Wheats has begun.
The great gates are locked all night;
the silk-reels go on spinning all day.
Though I feel the happiness of traveling with my family,
it is sad to see the sufferings of the village lanes.