Short Poems

The sweet dew in the honey-suckle flowers
Tastes of the morning; to Love's palate still
Are tender thoughts so all-delicious too.

The hearts of men are like mine,
therefore
it must laugh and weep with them.

This boat that we just built is just fine--
And don't try to tell us it's not.
The sides and the back are divine--
It's the bottom I guess we forgot....

Nobly, nobly Cape Saint Vincent to the North-west died away;
Sunset ran, one glorious blood-red, reeking into Cadiz Bay;
Bluish 'mid the burning water, full in face Trafalgar lay;
In the dimmest North-east distance dawned Gibraltar grand and grey;
"Here and here did England help me: how can I help England?" -say,
Whoso turns as I, this evening, turn to God to praise and pray,
While Jove's planet rises yonder, silent over Africa.

O'er flowery fields full oft he roams,
The learned and pleasing genial Holmes.

Hi! Handsome hunting man,
Fire your little gun,
Bang! Now that animal
Is dead and dumb and done.
Never more to peep again, creep again, leap again,
Eat or sleep or drink again, oh, what fun!

Du gav Sylphiden smukke Tonevinger,
Og Saras Sorg Du lagde Ynde i.
Kun modigt fremad — Hydra Du betvinger
Ved det hun just forfølge vil, — Geni!

Cry "Murder" in the market-place, and each
Will turn upon his neighbour anxious eyes
Asking: "Art thou the man?" We hunted Cain
Some centuries ago across the world.
This bred the fear our own misdeeds maintain
To-day.

1034

His Bill an Auger is,
His Head, a Cap and Frill.
He laboreth at every Tree
A Worm, His utmost Goal.

899

Herein a Blossom lies—
A Sepulchre, between—
Cross it, and overcome the Bee—
Remain—'tis but a Rind.