Charlie French

Related poetry:

1. 461. Song-Charlie, he's my Darling ‘TWAS on a Monday morning, Right early in the year, That Charlie came to our town, The young Chevalier. Chorus.-An’ Charlie, he’s my darling, My darling, my darling, Charlie, he’s my darling, The young Chevalier. As he was walking up the street, The city for to view, O there he spied a bonie lass The […]...
2. Modern Love XXV: You Like Not That French Novel You like not that French novel? Tell me why. You think it quite unnatural. Let us see. The actors are, it seems, the usual three: Husband, and wife, and lover. She but fie! In England we’ll not hear of it. Edmond, The lover, her devout chagrin doth share; Blanc-mange and absinthe are his penitent fare, […]...
3. The French Revolution (excerpt) Thee the ancientest peer, Duke of Burgundy, rose from the monarch’s right hand, red as wines From his mountains; an odor of war, like a ripe vineyard, rose from his garments, And the chamber became as a clouded sky; o’er the council he stretch’d his red limbs, Cloth’d in flames of crimson; as a ripe […]...
4. French Revolution, The (excerpt) 84 Thee the ancientest peer, Duke of Burgundy, rose from the monarch’s right hand, red as wines 85 From his mountains; an odor of war, like a ripe vineyard, rose from his garments, 86 And the chamber became as a clouded sky; o’er the council he stretch’d his red limbs, 87 Cloth’d in flames of […]...
5. With French to Kimberley The Boers were down on Kimberley with siege and Maxim gun; The Boers were down on Kimberley, their numbers ten to one! Faint were the hopes the British had to make the struggle good Defenceless in an open plain the Diamond City stood. They built them forts with bags of sand, they fought from roof […]...
6. An Old French Poet When in your sober mood my body have ye laid In sight and sound of things beloved, woodland and stream, And the green turf has hidden the poor bones ye deem No more a close companion with those rhymes we made; Then, if some bird should pipe, or breezes stir the glade, Thinking them for […]...
7. French Quarter Singer Strumming your polished guitar with long, nail-lightened fingers, Where are you now, leaning forward a peasant-dressed arm – Lark on the near side of midnight, my crescent curb lady, Ear to your sound, dangling each with a silver folk charm? Sweet was your voice for an evening, amid the brash jazzy – Seamless soprano, your […]...
8. French Leave No servile little fear shall daunt my will This morning. I have courage steeled to say I will be lazy, conqueringly still, I will not lose the hours in toil this day. The roaring world without, careless of souls, Shall leave me to my placid dream of rest, My four walls shield me from its […]...
9. Incident Of The French Camp I. You know, we French stormed Ratisbon: A mile or so away, On a little mound, Napoleon Stood on our storming-day; With neck out-thrust, you fancy how, Legs wide, arms locked behind, As if to balance the prone brow Oppressive with its mind. II. Just as perhaps he mused ”My plans ”That soar, to earth […]...
10. 414. Impromptu on Dumourier's Desertion of the French Republican Army YOU’RE welcome to Despots, Dumourier; You’re welcome to Despots, Dumourier: How does Dampiere do? Ay, and Bournonville too? Why did they not come along with you, Dumourier? I will fight France with you, Dumourier; I will fight France with you, Dumourier; I will fight France with you, I will take my chance with you; By […]...
11. Dirge Boys and girls that held her dear, Do your weeping now; All you loved of her lies here. Brought to earth the arrogant brow, And the withering tongue Chastened; do your weeping now. Sing whatever songs are sung, Wind whatever wreath, For a playmate perished young, For a spirit spent in death. Boys and girls […]...
12. A Change of Menu Now the new chum loaded his three-nought-three, It’s a small-bore gun, but his hopes were big. “I am fed to the teeth with old ewe,” said he, “And I might be able to shoot a pig.” And he trusted more to his nose than ear To give him warning when pigs were near. Out of […]...
13. Victory Stuff What d’ye think, lad; what d’ye think, As the roaring crowds go by? As the banners flare and the brasses blare And the great guns rend the sky? As the women laugh like they’d all gone mad, And the champagne glasses clink: Oh, you’re grippin’ me hand so tightly, lad, I’m a-wonderin’: what d’ye think? […]...
14. When Your Pants Begin to Go When you wear a cloudy collar and a shirt that isn’t white, And you cannot sleep for thinking how you’ll reach to-morrow night, You may be a man of sorrows, and on speaking terms with Care, And as yet be unacquainted with the Demon of Despair; For I rather think that nothing heaps the trouble […]...
15. Father He never made a fortune, or a noise In the world where men are seeking after fame; But he had a healthy brood of girls and boys Who loved the very ground on which he trod. They thought him just little short of God; Oh you should have heard the way they said his name […]...
16. Dear March Come in Dear March Come in How glad I am I hoped for you before Put down your Hat You must have walked How out of Breath you are Dear March, Come right up the stairs with me I have so much to tell I got your Letter, and the Birds The Maples never knew that you […]...
17. Jonathan Swift Somers After you have enriched your soul To the highest point, With books, thought, suffering, the understanding of many personalities, The power to interpret glances, silences, The pauses in momentous transformations, The genius of divination and prophecy; So that you feel able at times to hold the world In the hollow of your hand; Then, if, […]...
18. 191. Song-Theniel Menzies' Bonie Mary IN comin by the brig o’ Dye, At Darlet we a blink did tarry; As day was dawnin in the sky, We drank a health to bonie Mary. Chorus.-Theniel Menzies’ bonie Mary, Theniel Menzies’ bonie Mary, Charlie Grigor tint his plaidie, Kissin’ Theniel’s bonie Mary. Her een sae bright, her brow sae white, Her haffet […]...
19. Sonnet XLVIII How careful was I, when I took my way, Each trifle under truest bars to thrust, That to my use it might unused stay From hands of falsehood, in sure wards of trust! But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are, Most worthy of comfort, now my greatest grief, Thou, best of dearest and mine […]...
20. Margaret Fuller Slack I would have been as great as George Eliot But for an untoward fate. For look at the photograph of me made by Penniwit, Chin resting on hand, and deep-set eyes Gray, too, and far-searching. But there was the old, old problem: Should it be celibacy, matrimony or unchastity? Then John Slack, the rich druggist, […]...
21. Wedding Each strips his own skin Each bares his own constellation Which has never seen the night Each fills his skin with rocks And plays with it Lit by his own stars Who doesn’t stop till dawn Who doesn’t bat an eyelid or fall Earns his own skin (This game is rarely played)...
22. 16-bit Intel 8088 chip with an Apple Macintosh You can’t run Radio Shack programs In its disc drive. Nor can a Commodore 64 Drive read a file You have created on an IBM Personal Computer. Both Kaypro and Osborne computers use The CP/M operating system But can’t read each other’s Handwriting For they format (write On) discs in different […]...
23. The Images Alone Scarlet as the cloth draped over a sword, White as steaming rice, blue as leschenaultia, Old curried towns, the frog in its green human skin; A ploughman walking his furrow as if in irons, but As at a whoop of young men running loose In brick passages, there occurred the thought Like instant stitches all […]...
24. The Way I read a Letter's this The Way I read a Letter’s this ‘Tis first I lock the Door And push it with my fingers next For transport it be sure And then I go the furthest off To counteract a knock Then draw my little Letter forth And slowly pick the lock Then glancing narrow, at the Wall And narrow […]...
25. Wood Rides Who hath not felt the influence that so calms The weary mind in summers sultry hours When wandering thickest woods beneath the arms Of ancient oaks and brushing nameless flowers That verge the little ride who hath not made A minutes waste of time and sat him down Upon a pleasant swell to gaze awhile […]...
26. A Passer-by Whither, O splendid ship, thy white sails crowding, Leaning across the bosom of the urgent West, That fearest nor sea rising, nor sky clouding, Whither away, fair rover, and what thy quest? Ah! soon, when Winter has all our vales opprest, When skies are cold and misty, and hail is hurling, Wilt thoù glìde on […]...
27. Promise This When You be Dying Promise This When You be Dying Some shall summon Me Mine belong Your latest Sighing Mine to Belt Your Eye Not with Coins though they be Minted From an Emperor’s Hand Be my lips the only Buckle Your low Eyes demand Mine to stay when all have wandered To devise once more If the Life […]...
28. 371. Song-Lady Mary Ann O LADY Mary Ann looks o’er the Castle wa’, She saw three bonie boys playing at the ba’, The youngest he was the flower amang them a’, My bonie laddie’s young, but he’s growin’ yet. O father, O father, an ye think it fit, We’ll send him a year to the college yet, We’ll sew […]...
29. Auld Lang Syne Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And auld lang syne? For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne, We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet, For auld lang syne. And surely ye’ll be your pint-stowp, And surely I’ll be mine! And we’ll tak a […]...
30. The Bible is an antique Volume The Bible is an antique Volume Written by faded men At the suggestion of Holy Spectres Subjects Bethlehem Eden the ancient Homestead Satan the Brigadier Judas the Great Defaulter David the Troubador Sin a distinguished Precipice Others must resist Boys that “believe” are very lonesome Other Boys are “lost” Had but the Tale a warbling […]...
31. The Lockless Door It went many years, But at last came a knock, And I though of the door With no lock to lock. I blew out the light, I tip-toed the floor, And raised both hands In prayer to the door. But the knock came again. My window was wide; I climbed on the sill And descended […]...
32. Nellie Clark I was only eight years old; And before I grew up and knew what it meant I had no words for it, except That I was frightened and told my Mother; And that my Father got a pistol And would have killed Charlie, who was a big boy, Fifteen years old, except for his Mother. […]...
33. The Lost Legion 1895 There’s a Legion that never was listed, That carries no colours or crest, But, split in a thousand detachments, Is breaking the road for the rest. Our fathers they left us their blessing They taught us, and groomed us, and crammed; But we’ve shaken the Clubs and the Messes To go and find out […]...
34. The Twenty-Third Psalm My Shepherd is the Lord my God, There is no want I know; His flock He leads in verdant meads, Where tranquil waters flow. He doth restore my fainting soul With His divine caress, And, when I stray, He points the way To paths of righteousness. Yea, though I walk the vale of death, What […]...
35. 39. Ballad on the American War WHEN Guilford good our pilot stood An’ did our hellim thraw, man, Ae night, at tea, began a plea, Within America, man: Then up they gat the maskin-pat, And in the sea did jaw, man; An’ did nae less, in full congress, Than quite refuse our law, man. Then thro’ the lakes Montgomery takes, I […]...
36. Paul McNeely Dear Jane! dear winsome Jane! How you stole in the room (where I lay so ill) In your nurse’s cap and linen cuffs, And took my hand and said with a smile: “You are not so ill you’ll soon be well.” And how the liquid thought of your eyes Sank in my eyes like dew […]...
37. Not Mine All my life to pretend this world of theirs is mine And to know such pretending is disgraceful. But what can I do? Suppose I suddenly screamed And started to prophesy. No one would hear me. Their screens and microphones are not for that. Others like me wander the streets And talk to themselves. Sleep […]...
38. To Lizbie Browne I Dear Lizbie Browne, Where are you now? In sun, in rain? – Or is your brow Past joy, past pain, Dear Lizbie Browne? II Sweet Lizbie Browne How you could smile, How you could sing! – How archly wile In glance-giving, Sweet Lizbie Browne! III And, Lizbie Browne, Who else had hair Bay-red as […]...
39. The Irish Convict's Return Ye mountains and glens of Old Ireland, I’ve returned home to ye again; During my absence from ye My heart always felt great pain. Oh, how I long’d to see you dear Nora, And the old folks at home; And the beautiful Lakes o’ Killarney, Where we oft together did roam. Ye beautiful Lakes of […]...
40. A Tale This youth too long has heard the break Of waters in a land of change. He goes to see what suns can make From soil more indurate and strange. He cuts what holds his days together And shuts him in, as lock on lock: The arrowed vane announcing weather, The tripping racket of a clock; […]...