Ellis Parker Butler

Comrades, many a year and day Have fled since that glorious 9th of May When we made the charge at Farmington. But until our days on earth are done Our blood will burn and

I hold her letter as I stand, Nor break the seal; no need to guess What dainty little female hand Penned this most delicate address. The scented seal-I break it not, But stand in

The Sheep adorns the landscape rural And is both singular and plural- It gives grammarians the creeps To hear one say, “A flock of sheeps.” The Sheep is gentle, meek and mild, And led

To be a great musician you must be a man of moods, You have to be, to understand sonatas and etudes. To execute pianos and to fiddle with success, With sympathy and feeling you

The sluggish clouds hang low upon the town, And from yon lamp in chilled and sodden rays The feeble light gropes through the heavy mist And dies, extinguished in the stagnant maze. From moisty

Twain? Oh, yes, I’ve heard Mark Twain Heard him down to Pleasant Plain; Funny? Yes, I guess so. Folks Seemed to laugh loud at his jokes- Laughed to beat the band; but I Couldn’t

Was ever a maiden so worried? I’ll admit I am partial to Jim, For Jimmie has promised to wed me When I’m old enough to wed him. But then I love teacher, too, dearly,

In hand I take this pen of mine To write you, sweet, a valentine; I’d take your dainty hand instead, But-you’re a drawing-I am wed- And that is why, you understand, I only take

The Whale is found in seas and oceans, Indulging there in fishlike motions, But Science shows that Whales are mammals, Like Jersey cows, and goats, and camels. When undisturbed, the Whale will browse Like

When Cupid held an auction sale, I hastened to his mart, For I had heard that he would sell The blue-eyed Dora’s heart. I brought a wealth of truest love, The most that I

The cruelty of P. L. Brown- (He had ten toes as good as mine) Was known to every one in town, And, if he never harmed a noun, He loved to make verbs shriek

I have no heart to write verses to May; I have no heart-yet I’m cheerful today; I have no heart-she has won mine away So-I have no heart to write verses to May.

I know something wonderful-wonderful; So strange it will quite startle you; So strange and absurd and unusual It seems it can hardly be true! I know something wonderful-wonderful; You’ll hardly believe it can be-

A merry burgomaster In a burgh upon the Rhine Said, “Our burghers all are Far too fond of drinking wine.” So the merry burgomaster, When the burgomasters met, Bade them look into the matter

She does not mind a good cigar (The kind, that is, I smoke); She thinks all men quite stupid are, (But laughs whene’er I joke). She says she does not care for verse (But

So great my debt to thee, I know my life Is all too short to pay the least I owe, And though I live it all in that sweet strife, Still shall I be

Little cullud Rastus come a-skippin’ down de street, A-smilin’ and a-grinnin’ at every one he meet; My, oh! He was happy! Boy, but was he gay! Wishin’ “Merry Chris’mus” an’ “Happy New-Year’s Day”! Wishin’

Just as the sun was setting Back of the Western hills Grandfather stood by the window Eating the last of his pills. And Grandmother, by the cupboard, Knitting, heard him say: “I ought to

Nature, when she made thee, dear, Begged the treasures of the year. For thy cheeks, all pink and white, Spring gave apple blossoms light; Summer, for thy matchless eyes, Gave the azure of her

A glint of her hair or a flash of her shoulder – That is the most I can boast to have seen, Then all is lost as the shadows enfold her, Forest glades making

There was a man in New York City (His name was George Adolphus Knight) So soft of heart he wept with pity To see our language and its plight. He mourned to see it

There was a young patrolman who Had large but tender feet; They always hurt him badly when He walked upon his beat. (He always took them with him when He walked upon his beat.)

I am standing under the mistletoe, And I smile, but no answering smile replies For her haughty glance bids me plainly know That not for me is the thing I prize; Instead, from her

Sence fair Jessica hez left us Seems ez ef she hed bereft us, When she went, o’ half o’ livin’; Fer we never knowed she’d driven Into us so much content, Till fair Jessica

The Cowboy had a sterling heart, The Maiden was from Boston, The Rancher saw his wealth depart- The Steers were what he lost on. The Villain was a banker’s limb, His spats and cane

A sinner was old Captain Dan; His wives guv him no rest: He had one wife to East Skiddaw And one to Skiddaw West. Now Ann Eliza was the name Of her at East

She plucked a blossom fair to see; Upon my coat I let her pin it; And thus we stood beneath the tree A minute. She turned her smiling face to me; I saw a

I want to know how Bernard Shaw Likes beefsteak-fairly done, or raw? I want to know what kinds of shoes M. Maeterlinck and Howells use. I have great curiosity Regarding George Ade’s new boot

When I taught Ida how to ride a Bicycle that night, I ran beside her, just to guide her Erring wheel aright; And many times there in the street She rode upon my weary

Behold, my child, this touching scene, The golfer on the golfing-green; Pray mark his legs’ uncanny swing, The golf-walk is a gruesome thing! See how his arms and shoulders ride Above his legs in

Love took chambers on our street Opposite to mine; On his door he tacked a neat, Clearly lettered sign. Straightway grew his custom great, For his sign read so: “Hearts united while you wait.

When young, in tones quite positive I said, “The world shall see That I can keep myself from sin; A good man I will be.” But when I loved Miss Kate St. Clair ‘Twas

They hide in the brook when I seek to draw nearer, Laughing amain when I feign to depart; Often I hear them, now faint and now clearer- Innocent bold or so sweetly discreet. Are

Strange, is it not? She was making her garden, Planting the old-fashioned flowers that day- Bleeding-hearts tender and bachelors-buttons- Spreading the seeds in the old-fashioned way. Just in the old fashioned way, too, our

A Scotchman whose name was Isbister Had a maiden giraffe he called “sister” When she said “Oh, be mine, Be my sweet Valentine!” He just shinned up her long neck and kissed her.