To make this condiment your poet begs
The pounded yellow of two hard boiled eggs;
Two boiled potatoes, passed through kitchen sieve,
Smoothness and softness to the salad give;
Let onion atoms lurk within the bowl,
And, half suspected, animate the whole;
Of mordant mustard add a single spoon,
Distrust the condiment that bites so soon;...
-
-
Thou who, when fears attack,
Bid’st them avaunt, and Black
Care, at the horseman’s back
Perching, unseatest;
Sweet when the morn is gray;
Sweet, when they ’ve cleared away
Lunch; and at close of day
Possibly sweetest:I have a liking old
For thee, though manifold
Stories, I know, are told,
Not... -
MAY the Babylonish curse
Straight confound my stammering verse,
If I can a passage see
In this word-perplexity,
Or a fit expression find,
Or a language to my mind
(Still the phrase is wide or scant),
To take leave of thee, GREAT PLANT!
Or in any terms relate
Half my love, or half my hate;
For I hate, yet love,... -
The Maid, as by the papers doth appear,
Whom fifty thousand dollars made so dear,
To test Lothario’s passion, simply said:
“Forego the weed before we go to wed.
For smoke take flame; I ’ll be that flame’s bright fanner:
To have your Anna, give up your Havana.”
But he, when thus she brought him to the scratch,
Lit his cigar and threw away... -
Prologue
WOULDN’T it jar you, wouldn’t it make you sore
To see the poet, when the goods play out,
Crawl off of poor old Pegasus and tout
His skate to two-step sonnets off galore?
Then, when the plug, a dead one, can no more
Shake rag-time than a biscuit, right about
The poem-butcher turns with gleeful shout
And sends a batch of... -
“now unto yonder wood-pile go,
Where toil till I return;
And feel how proud a thing it is
A livelihood to earn.”
A saddened look came o’er the tramp;
He seemed like one bereft.
He stowed away the victuals cold,
He—saw the wood, and left. -
Behold the mansion reared by dædal Jack.
See the malt, stored in many a plethoric sack,
In the proud cirque of Ivan’s bivouac.Mark how the rat’s felonious fangs invade
The golden stores in John’s pavilion laid.Anon, with velvet foot and Tarquin strides,
Subtle grimalkin to his quarry glides,—
Grimalkin grim, that slew the fierce... -
Friend of Humanity
NEEDY 1 knife-grinder! whither are you going?
Rough is the road; your wheel is out of order.
Bleak blows the blast;—your hat has got a hole in ’t;
So have your breeches!Weary knife-grinder! little think the proud ones,
Who in their coaches roll along the turnpike-
Road, what hard work ’t is crying all day,... -
’t IS 1 a dozen or so of years ago,
Somewhere in the West countree,
That a nice girl lived, as ye Hoosiers know
By the name of Deborah Lee;
Her sister was loved by Edgar Poe,
But Deborah by me.Now I was green, and she was green,
As a summer’s squash might be;
And we loved as warmly as other folks,—
I and my... -
YOU 1 see this pebble-stone? It ’s a thing I bought
Of a bit of a chit of a boy i’ the mid o’ the day—
I like to dock the smaller parts-o’-speech,
As we curtail the already cur-tailed cur
(You catch the paronomasia, play o’ words?)—
Did, rather, i’ the pre-Landseerian days.
Well, to my muttons. I purchased the concern,
And clapt it i’...