Short Poems

Who sees you, G, surprises two in one:
A boy behind, your front as man must rate.
You play the lad for your illicit fun,
But on the turn, you're virile, true and straight!

'T is strange that I sit here in wakeful mood,
Though day has brought me nor joy nor gain;
But all of which ever my life was fain,
And all that was hidden in gloom and pain,
Is trembling to-night in yon silvery flood.

Mr. Ramsay MacDonald
Wished the Channel could be tunnelled.
He said it always got his goat
To be asked if he had lunched on the boat.

Seamaw, seamaw, my mither's awa'
For pouther an' lead, to shoot ye dead—
Pit-oo! pit-oo! pit-oo!

I am my Love's laboratory,
For truly he shall find
The proof of his high quality
Within my heart and mind.
Look down, my Love, my Dear,
At the sure change wrought here!

If there be error,
In gentle intimacy
Of love to counsel,
The heart of loyal friendship
Grows ever nearer, dearer.

Oh Lord, I want some valiant soldier,
I want some valiant soldier,
I want some valiant soldier, To help me bear de cross.
For I weep, I weep, I can't hold out;
If any mercy, Lord, O pity poor me.

Above the quiet dock in mid night,
Tangled in the tall mast's corded height,
Hangs the moon. What seemed so far away
Is but a child's balloon, forgotten after play.

A green pond and red flowers lie in the soft misty rain.
She rests on the magnolia boat.
Drops of jade hang at her side.
Her sash winds around her slim and delicate waist
Love's dream is kept apart by the Bridge of Stars
So far, so very far away.
The sweet scent from her silken gown slowly fades
A coronet of feathers dips low.

The palais de justice of chambermaids
Tops the horizon with its colonnades.

If it were lost in Übermenschlichkeit,
Perhaps our wretched state would soon come right.

For somehow the brave dicta of its kings
Make more awry our faulty human things.