Short Poems

There was a fat man of Bombay,
Who was smoking one sunshiny day,
When a bird, called a snipe,
Flew away with his pipe,
Which vexed the fat man of Bombay.

Pistyll Rhaeadr and Wrexham steeple,
Snowdon's mountain without its people,
Overton yew-trees, Gresford bells,
Llangollen bridge and St. Winifred's well.

And could'st thou, youthful songstress, prove
The pangs, the bliss that wait on love;
While from that careless air of thine,
Thou seem'st to worship at the shrine
Of chill indiff'rence;—yet so well
You paint the boy, that sure his spell
The urchin round thy hearth did steal;
We best express what most we feel.

Statesmen, in your exalted station know
Sins of omission for commission go;
Since ships as often founder on the main
From leaks unstopped as from the hurricane.
Shore up your house; it totters to the base;
A mouldering rot corrodes it; and the trace
Of every crime you punish I descry:
The least of all perhaps is sodomy.

Now let my soul give praise
For Jesus' wondrous goodness
Six and eighty years have gone
And I am really childish now;
A child however cannot say
How the mother has protected it.
Therefore shall I remain quiet,
It goes according to God's will

Now have eight and eighty years
Of my mortal life gone by,
Faith has always clearly taught me
For a future life to hope.
If doubt comes now to plague me
My Jesus never will forsake me
The ignominy of His crown of thorns
He gives to me as my reward

Each night brings its day,
Each day has its care,
Until the evening says: for the morrow
God, Himself, will amply care.
Oh then rejoice and take new courage,
God does all things right and well
Sander Mack, aged eighty-nine years.

This year, also, has the Lord
Borne me like a Father true,
To and fro on eagles' wings.
Through good and evil days
In many kinds of perils
He ruled for me the hardships
To the glory of His name.

Now have five and sixty parts
Of this brief time gone by;
Thus men hasten to eternity.
My God is good, my God is true,
To offer Him alone the honor
Was I brought into the light.
If I'm to live down here much longer
'T will be through His wondrous power.

Until this day the Lord has borne me,
And to this day my God has brought me.
Through good and evil days
He covered me with His might.
War brings always want and famine,
But God gives me my daily bread.