The Statue
When we are dead, some Hunting-boy will pass And find a stone half-hidden in tall grass And grey with age: but having seen that stone (Which was your image), ride more slowly on.
The Frog
Be kind and tender to the Frog, And do not call him names, As “Slimy skin,” or “Polly-wog,” Or likewise “Ugly James,” Or “Gap-a-grin,” or “Toad-gone-wrong,” Or “Bill Bandy-knees”: The Frog is justly sensitive
The Tiger
The tiger, on the other hand, Is kittenish and mild, And makes a pretty playfellow For any little child. And mothers of large families (Who claim to common sense) Will find a tiger well
The Telephone
To-night in million-voiced London I Was lonely as the million-pointed sky Until your single voice. Ah! So the sun Peoples all heaven, although he be but one.
The Evenlode
Torture will give a dozen pence or more To keep a drab from bawling at his door. The public taste is quite a different thing – Torture is positively paid to sing.
Lord Finchley
Lord Finchley tried to mend the Electric Light Himself. It struck him dead: And serve him right! It is the business of the wealthy man To give employment to the artisan.
Hildebrand
Who was frightened by a Passing Motor, and was brought to Reason “Oh murder! What was that, Papa!” “My child, It was a Motor-Car, A most Ingenious Toy! Designed to Captivate and Charm Much
Jim
Who ran away from his Nurse and was eaten by a Lion There was a Boy whose name was Jim; His Friends were very good to him. They gave him Tea, and Cakes, and
Algernon
Who played with a Loaded Gun, and, on missing his Sister was reprimanded by his Father. Young Algernon, the Doctor’s Son, Was playing with a Loaded Gun. He pointed it towards his Sister, Aimed
The Lion
The Lion, the Lion, he dwells in the Waste, He has a big head and a very small waist; But his shoulders are stark, and his jaws they are grim, And a good little
Franklin Hyde
Who caroused in the Dirt and was corrected by His Uncle. His Uncle came upon Franklin Hyde Carousing in the Dirt. He Shook him hard from Side to Side And Hit him till it
The Vulture
The Vulture eats between his meals, And that’s the reason why He very, very, rarely feels As well as you and I. His eye is dull, his head is bald, His neck is growing
The Death and Last Confession of Wandering Peter
When Peter Wanderwide was young He wandered everywhere he would: All that he approved was sung, And most of what he saw was good. When Peter Wanderwide was thrown By Death himself beyond Auxerre,
Ha'nacker Mill
Sally is gone that was so kindly, Sally is gone from Ha’nacker Hill And the Briar grows ever since then so blindly; And ever since then the clapper is still… And the sweeps have
The Whale
The Whale that wanders round the Pole Is not a table fish. You cannot bake or boil him whole Nor serve him in a dish; But you may cut his blubber up And melt