The Shakespeare Memorial
Lord Lilac thought it rather rotten
That Shakespeare should be quite forgotten,
And therefore got on a Committee
With several chaps out of the City,
And Shorter and Sir Herbert Tree,
Lord Rothschild and Lord Rosebery,
And F. C. G. and Comyn Carr
Two dukes and a dramatic star,
Also a clergy man now dead;
And while the vain world careless sped
Unheeding the heroic name
The souls most fed with Shakespeare’s flame
Still sat unconquered in a ring,
Remembering him like anything.
Lord Lilac did not long remain,
Lord Lilac did not some again.
He softly lit a cigarette
And sought some other social set
Where, in some other knots or rings,
People were doing cultured things.
Miss Zwilt’s Humane Vivarium
The little men that paint on gum
The exquisite Gorilla Girl. . .
He sometimes, in this giddy whirl
(Not being really bad at heart),
Remembered Shakespeare with a start
But not with that grand constancy
Of Clement Shorter, Herbert Tree,
Lord Rosebery and Comyn Carr
And all the other names there are;
Who stuck like limpets to the spot,
Lest they forgot, lest they forgot.
Lord Lilac was of slighter stuff;
Lord Lilac had had quite enough.
Related poetry:
- Shakespeare Would that in body and spirit Shakespeare came Visible emperor of the deeds of Time, With Justice still the genius of his rhyme, Giving each man his due, each passion grace, Impartial as the rain from Heaven’s face Or sunshine from the heaven-enthroned sun. Sweet Swan of Avon, come to us again. Teach us to […]...
- With a Copy of Shakespeare's Sonnets on Leaving College As one of some fat tillage dispossessed, Weighing the yield of these four faded years, If any ask what fruit seems loveliest, What lasting gold among the garnered ears, Ah, then I’ll say what hours I had of thine, Therein I reaped Time’s richest revenue, Read in thy text the sense of David’s line, Through […]...
- An Epitaph on the Admirable Dramatic Poet W. Shakespeare What needs my Shakespeare for his honored bones The labor of an age in piled stones? Or that his hallowed reliques should be hid Under a star-ypointing pyramid? Dear son of Memory, great heir of Fame, What need’st thou such weak witness of thy name? Thou in our wonder and astonishment Hast built thy self […]...
- To The Memory Of My Beloved, The Author, Mr William Shakespeare, And What He Hath Left Us To draw no envy, Shakespeare, on thy name Am I thus ample to thy book and fame; While I confess thy writings to be such As neither Man nor Muse can praise too much. ‘Tis true, and all men’s suffrage. But these ways Were not the paths I meant unto thy praise; For silliest ignorance […]...
- The Black Watch Memorial Ye Sons of Mars, it gives me great content To think there has been erected a handsome monument In memory of the Black Watch, which is magnificent to see, Where they first were embodied at Aberfeldy. And as a Highland regiment they are worthy of what has been done for them, Because a more courageous […]...
- The Violet Pressed in a Copy of Shakespeare Here in the inmost of the master’s heart This violet crisp with early dew Has come to leave her beauty and to part With all her vivid hue. And while in hollow glades and dells of musk, Her fellows will reflower in bands, Clasping the deeps of shade and emerald dusk, With sweet inviolate hands, […]...
- The Shorter Catechism I burned my fingers on the stove And wept with bitterness; But poor old Auntie Maggie strove To comfort my distress. Said she: ‘Think, lassie, how you’ll burn Like any wicked besom In fires of hell if you don’t learn Your Shorter Catechism.’ A man’s chief end is it began, (No mention of a woman’s), […]...
- An Address to Shakespeare Immortal! William Shakespeare, there’s none can you excel, You have drawn out your characters remarkably well, Which is delightful for to see enacted upon the stage For instance, the love-sick Romeo, or Othello, in a rage; His writings are a treasure, which the world cannot repay, He was the greatest poet of the past or […]...
- Memorial Your body was a sacred cell always, A jewel that grew dull in garish light, An opal which beneath my wondering gaze Gleamed rarely, softly throbbing in the night. I touched your flesh with reverential hands, For you were sweet and timid like a flower That blossoms out of barren tropic sands, Shedding its perfume […]...
- John Ericsson Day Memorial, 1918 INTO the gulf and the pit of the dark night, the cold night, there is a man goes into the dark and the cold and when he comes back to his people he brings fire in his hands and they remember him in the years afterward as the fire bringer-they remember or forget-the man whose […]...
- Memorial Tablet Squire nagged and bullied till I went to fight, (Under Lord Derby’s Scheme). I died in hell – (They called it Passchendaele). My wound was slight, And I was hobbling back; and then a shell Burst slick upon the duck-boards: so I fell Into the bottomless mud, and lost the light. At sermon-time, while Squire […]...
- Memorial Day “Dulce et decorum est” The bugle echoes shrill and sweet, But not of war it sings to-day. The road is rhythmic with the feet Of men-at-arms who come to pray. The roses blossom white and red On tombs where weary soldiers lie; Flags wave above the honored dead And martial music cleaves the sky. Above […]...
- Memorial Day For The War Dead Memorial day for the war dead. Add now The grief of all your losses to their grief, Even of a woman that has left you. Mix Sorrow with sorrow, like time-saving history, Which stacks holiday and sacrifice and mourning On one day for easy, convenient memory. Oh, sweet world soaked, like bread, In sweet milk […]...
- The Message Wind of the gentle summer night, Dwell in the lilac tree, Sway the blossoms clustered light, Then blow over to me. Wind, you are sometimes strong and great, You frighten the ships at sea, Now come floating your delicate freight Out of the lilac tree, Wind you must waver a gossamer sail To ferry a […]...
- Summer is shorter than any one Summer is shorter than any one Life is shorter than Summer Seventy Years is spent as quick As an only Dollar Sorrow now is polite and stays See how well we spurn him Equally to abhor Delight Equally retain him...
- Shakespeare's Ghost – A Parody I, too, at length discerned great Hercules’ energy mighty, Saw his shade. He himself was not, alas, to be seen. Round him were heard, like the screaming of birds, The screams of tragedians, And, with the baying of dogs, barked dramaturgists around. There stood the giant in all his terrors; his bow was extended, And […]...
- Disillusionment Of Ten O'clock The houses are haunted By white night-gowns. None are green, Or purple with green rings, Or green with yellow rings, Or yellow with blue rings. None of them are strange, With socks of lace And beaded ceintures. People are not going To dream of baboons and periwinkles. Only, here and there, an old sailor, Drunk […]...
- 46. The Belles of Mauchline IN Mauchline there dwells six proper young belles, The pride of the place and its neighbourhood a’; Their carriage and dress, a stranger would guess, In Lon’on or Paris, they’d gotten it a’. Miss Miller is fine, Miss Markland’s divine, Miss Smith she has wit, and Miss Betty is braw: There’s beauty and fortune to […]...
- Villeggiature My window, framed in pear-tree bloom, White-curtained shone, and softly lighted: So, by the pear-tree, to my room Your ghost last night climbed uninvited. Your solid self, long leagues away, Deep in dull books, had hardly missed me; And yet you found this Romeo’s way, And through the blossom climbed and kissed me. I watched […]...
- The Death of Lord and Lady Dalhousie Alas! Lord and Lady Dalhousie are dead, and buried at last, Which causes many people to feel a little downcast; And both lie side by side in one grave, But I hope God in His goodness their souls will save. And may He protect their children that are left behind, And may they always food […]...
- Memorial To D. C (Vassar College, 1918) O, loveliest throat of all sweet throats, Where now no more the music is, With hands that wrote you little notes I write you little elegies!...
- At the Vietnam War Memorial Black granite stretches its harsh, tapering wings Up to pedestrian-level grass But sucks me down, here, at the intersection of names. I forgive, I must, though I wish something Could heal this wound in the earth. Behold, all theorists, the price of theory: Extreme unction by napalm and blood, Vets shipped home whole or in […]...
- Madrigal (To Miss May Forshall.) HE shouts amain, he shouts again, (Her brother, fierce, as bluff King Hal), “I tell you flat, I shall do that!” She softly whispers ” ‘May’ for ‘shall’!” He wistful sighed one eventide (Her friend, that made this Madrigal), “And shall I kiss you, pretty Miss!” Smiling she answered ” ‘May’ […]...
- Memorial Verses Goethe in Weimar sleeps, and Greece, Long since, saw Byron’s struggle cease. But one such death remain’d to come; The last poetic voice is dumb We stand to-day by Wordsworth’s tomb. When Byron’s eyes were shut in death, We bow’d our head and held our breath. He taught us little; but our soul Had felt […]...
- Queen Elizabeth Speaks My hands were stained with blood, my heart was Proud and cold, My soul is black with shame. . . but I gave Shakespeare gold. So after aeons of flame, I may, by grace of God, Rise up to kiss the dust that Shakespeare’s feet have trod....
- Shakespeare Others abide our question. Thou art free. We ask and ask-thou smilest and art still, Out-topping knowledge. For the loftiest hill, Who to the stars uncrowns his majesty, Planting his stedfast footsteps in the sea, Making the heaven of heavens his dwelling-place, Spares but the cloudy border of his base To the foiled searching of […]...
- Shakespeare A vision as of crowded city streets, With human life in endless overflow; Thunder of thoroughfares; trumpets that blow To battle; clamor, in obscure retreats, Of sailors landed from their anchored fleets; Tolling of bells in turrets, and below Voices of children, and bright flowers that throw O’er garden-walls their intermingled sweets! This vision comes […]...
- William Shakespeare Not if men’s tongues and angels’ all in one Spake, might the word be said that might speak thee. Streams, winds, woods, flowers, fields, mountains, yea, the sea, What power is in them all to praise the sun? His praise is this he can be praised of none. Man, woman, child, praise God for him; […]...
- Shakespeare And Cervantes Obit 23rd April 1616 Is it not strange that on this common date, Two titans of their age, aye of all Time, Together should renounce this mortal state, And rise like gods, unsullied and sublime? Should mutually render up the ghost, And hand n hand join Jove’s celestial host? What wondrous welcome from the scribes […]...
- The Song of the Oak The Druids waved their golden knives And danced around the Oak When they had sacrificed a man; But though the learned search and scan No single modern person can Entirely see the joke. But though they cut the throats of men They cut not down the tree, And from the blood the saplings spring Of […]...
- Miss Lloyd has now went to Miss Green Miss Lloyd has now sent to Miss Green, As, on opening the box, may be seen, Some years of a Black Ploughman’s Gauze, To be made up directly, because Miss Lloyd must in mourning appear For the death of a Relative dear Miss Lloyd must expect to receive This license to mourn and to grieve, […]...
- Sonnet Suggested By Homer, Chaucer, Shakespeare, Edgar Allan Poe, Paul Vakzy, James Joyce, Et Al Let me not, ever, to the marriage in Cana Of Galilee admit the slightest sentiment Of doubt about the astonishing and sustaining manna Of chance and choice to throw a shadow’s element Of disbelief in truth Love is not love Nor is the love of love its truth in consciousness If it can be made […]...
- The Lilac is an ancient shrub The Lilac is an ancient shrub But ancienter than that The Firmamental Lilac Upon the Hill tonight The Sun subsiding on his Course Bequeaths this final Plant To Contemplation not to Touch The Flower of Occident. Of one Corolla is the West The Calyx is the Earth The Capsules burnished Seeds the Stars The Scientist […]...
- The Inauguration of the University College Good people of Dundee, your voices raise, And to Miss Baxter give great praise; Rejoice and sing and dance with glee, Because she has founded a College in Bonnie Dundee. Therefore loudly in her praise sing, And make Dundee with your voices ring, And give honour to whom honour is due, Because ladies like her […]...
- Psalm 106 part 2 v.7,8,12ff S. M. Israel punished and pardoned; or, God’s unchangeable love. God of eternal love, How fickle are our ways! And yet how oft did Isr’el prove Thy constancy of grace! They saw thy wonders wrought, And then thy praise they sung; But soon thy works of power forgot, And murmured with their tongue. Now […]...
- The shakes now pay attention (said the teacher) And look up here The children looked up This is william shakespeare Four centuries up On a pedestal Was shakespeare’s head He was what we call A great man The children got sore necks Looking up And some began to look down No no You mustn’t look down (said […]...
- If recollecting were forgetting If recollecting were forgetting, Then I remember not. And if forgetting, recollecting, How near I had forgot. And if to miss, were merry, And to mourn, were gay, How very blithe the fingers That gathered this, Today!...
- The Wife a-Lost Since I noo mwore do zee your feace, Up steairs or down below, I’ll zit me in the lwonesome pleace, Where flat-bough’d beech do grow; Below the beeches’ bough, my love, Where you did never come, An’ I don’t look to meet ye now, As I do look at hwome. Since you noo mwore be […]...
- The Song of the Little Hunter Ere Mor the Peacock flutters, ere the Monkey People cry, Ere Chil the Kite swoops down a furlong sheer, Through the Jungle very softly flits a shadow and a sigh He is Fear, O Little Hunter, he is Fear! Very softly down the glade runs a waiting, watching shade, And the whisper spreads and widens […]...
- Hymn 18 Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord. Rev. 14:13. Hear what the voice from heav’n proclaims, For all the pious dead; Sweet is the savor of their names, And soft their sleeping bed. They die in Jesus, and are blest; How kind their slumbers are! From suff’rings and from sins released, And freed […]...