Short Poems

I ask Thee not to withhold grief
Thou hast in store for me;
I only ask for courage, Lord,
To bear it patiently.
Some day the azure sky will break,
And Thy dear face I'll see;
I pray that Thou wilt find me, Lord,
Waiting patiently.

I BROKE my heart because of you, my dear;
I wept full many an unmanly tear—
But as in agony I lay awake
I thought, “What lovely poems this will make!”

Hark, hark,
The dogs do bark,
The beggars are coming to town,
Some in rags
And some in jags
And one in a velvet gown.

Haste to the mighty ocean,
List to the lapsing waves;
With what a strange commotion
They seek their coral caves.
From heat and turmoil let us oft return,
The ocean's solemn majesty to learn

O WANDERER into many brains,
O spark the emperor's purple hides,
You sow the dusk with fiery grains
When the gold horseman rides.
O beauty on the darkness hurled,
Be it through me you shame the world.

Two lines shall tell the grief
that I by love sustain:
I burn, I flame, I faint, I freeze,
of hell I feel the pain.

I have heard
He does not bestow horses for poems;
He gives what fits his kind,

Hey Betty Martin,
tip-toe, tip-toe,
Hey Betty Martin,

My heart is just as heavy
As the horse on yonder hill;
When trying to be happy,
I can't, try as I will.
The little shoe it pinches,
On a spot you would not guess;
My heart with bitter grieving
Is breaking 'neath the stress.

A boy, he had an auger,
It bored two holes at once;
A boy, he had an auger,
It bored two holes at once;
And some were eating pop-corn,
And some were eating pickles—
(And the G is silent as in “Fish.”)