My Centenarian

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1. The Centenarian Great Grandfather was ninety-nine And so it was our one dread, That though his health was superfine He’d fail to make the hundred. Though he was not a rolling stone No moss he seemed to gather: A patriarch of brawn and bone Was Great Grandfather. He should have been senile and frail Instead of hale […]...
2. Centenarian's Story, The GIVE me your hand, old Revolutionary; The hill-top is nigh-but a few steps, (make room, gentlemen;) Up the path you have follow’d me well, spite of your hundred and extra years; You can walk, old man, though your eyes are almost done; Your faculties serve you, and presently I must have them serve me. Rest, […]...
3. Artist He gave a picture exhibition, Hiring a little empty shop. Above its window: FREE ADMISSION Cajoled the passers-by to stop; Just to admire – no need to purchase, Although his price might have been low: But no proud artist ever urges Potential buyers at his show. Of course he badly needed money, But more he […]...
4. The Height of the Ridiculous I WROTE some lines once on a time In wondrous merry mood, And thought, as usual, men would say They were exceeding good. They were so queer, so very queer, I laughed as I would die; Albeit, in the general way, A sober man am I. I called my servant, and he came; How kind […]...
5. The Maid-Servant At The Inn “It’s queer,” she said; “I see the light As plain as I beheld it then, All silver-like and calm and bright- We’ve not had stars like that again! “And she was such a gentle thing To birth a baby in the cold. The barn was dark and frightening- This new one’s better than the old. […]...
6. Joey I thought I would go daft when Joey died. He was my first, and wise beyond his years. For nigh a hundred nights I cried and cried, Until my weary eyes burned up my tears. Willie and Rosie tried to comfort me: A woeful, weeping family were we. I was a widow with no friends […]...
7. Brave New World One spoke: “Come, let us gaily go With laughter, love and lust, Since in a century or so We’ll all be boneyard dust. When unborn shadows hold the screen, (Our betters, I’ll allow) ‘Twill be as if we’d never been, A hundred years from now. When we have played life’s lively game Right royally we’ll […]...
8. My Hundred Books A thousand books my library Contains; And all are primed, it seems to me With brains. Mine are so few I scratch in thought My head; For just a hundred of the lot I’ve read. A hundred books, but of the best, I can With wisdom savour and digest And scan. Yet when afar from […]...
9. Wisdom This I say, and this I know: Love has seen the last of me. Love’s a trodden lane to woe, Love’s a path to misery. This I know, and knew before, This I tell you, of my years: Hide your heart, and lock your door. Hell’s afloat in lovers’ tears. Give your heart, and toss […]...
10. Oh, Gray And Tender Is The Rain Oh, gray and tender is the rain, That drips, drips on the pane! A hundred things come in the door, The scent of herbs, the thought of yore. I see the pool out in the grass, A bit of broken glass; The red flags running wet and straight, Down to the little flapping gate. Lombardy […]...
11. Futility Dusting my books I spent a busy day: Not ancient toes, time-hallowed and unread, But modern volumes, classics in their way, Whose makers now are numbered with the dead; Men of a generation more than mine, With whom I tattled, battled and drank wine. I worshipped them, rejoiced in their success, Grudging them not the […]...
12. Contrast “Carry your suitcase, Sir?” he said. I turned away to hide a grin, For he was shorter by a head Than I and pitiably thin. I could have made a pair of him, So with my load I stoutly legged; But his tenacity was grim: “Please let me help you, sir,” he begged. I could […]...
13. Picture Dealer There were twin artists A. and B. Who painted pictures two, And hung them in my galley For everyone to view; The one exhibited by A. The name “A Sphere” did bear, While strangely brother B’s display Was catalogued: “A Square”. Now although A. (and this is queer) Could squeeze a pretty tube, The picture […]...
14. At Lulworth Cove A Century Back Had I but lived a hundred years ago I might have gone, as I have gone this year, By Warmwell Cross on to a Cove I know, And Time have placed his finger on me there: “You see that man?” I might have looked, and said, “O yes: I see him. One that boat has […]...
15. From the Bush The Channel fog has lifted – And see where we have come! Round all the world we’ve drifted, A hundred years from “home”. The fields our parents longed for – Ah! we shall ne’er know how – The wealth that they were wronged for We’ll see as strangers now! The Dover cliffs have passed on […]...
16. Two Words ‘God’ is composed of letters three, But if you put an ‘l’ Before the last it seems to me A synonym for Hell. For all of envy, greed and hate The human heart can hold Respond unto the devil’s bait Of Gold. When God created Gold to be For our adorning fit, I little think […]...
17. The Death of the Old Mendicant There was a rich old gentleman Lived on a lonely moor in Switzerland, And he was very hard to the wandering poor, ‘Tis said he never lodged nor served them at his door. ‘Twas on a stormy night, and Boreas blew a bitter blast, And the snowflakes they fell thick and fast, When a poor […]...
18. Godmother The day that I was christened- It’s a hundred years, and more!- A hag came and listened At the white church door, A-hearing her that bore me And all my kith and kin Considerately, for me, Renouncing sin. While some gave me corals, And some gave me gold, And porringers, with morals Agreeably scrolled, The […]...
19. Pedlar Pedlar’s coming down the street, Housewives beat a swift retreat. Don’t you answer to the bell; Heedless what she has to sell. Just discreetly go inside. We must hang a board, I fear: PEDLARS NOT PERMITTED HERE. I’m trying to sell what nobody wants to buy; They turn me away, but still I try and […]...
20. DOUBLE VILLANELLE I. O goat-foot God of Arcady! This modern world is grey and old, And what remains to us of thee? No more the shepherd lads in glee Throw apples at thy wattled fold, O goat-foot God of Arcady! Nor through the laurels can one see Thy soft brown limbs, thy beard of gold And what […]...
21. A Few Rules for Beginners Babies must not eat the coal And they must not make grimaces, Nor in party dresses roll And must never black their faces. They must learn that pointing’s rude, They must sit quite still at table, And must always eat the food Put before them if they’re able. If they fall, they must not cry, […]...
22. Bookshelf I like to think that when I fall, A rain-drop in Death’s shoreless sea, This shelf of books along the wall, Beside my bed, will mourn for me. Regard it. . . . Aye, my taste is queer. Some of my bards you may disdain. Shakespeare and Milton are not here; Shelly and Keats you […]...
23. Money When I had money, money, O! I knew no joy till I went poor; For many a false man as a friend Came knocking all day at my door. Then felt I like a child that holds A trumpet that he must not blow Because a man is dead; I dared Not speak to let […]...
24. 372. Song-Kellyburn Braes THERE lived a carl in Kellyburn Braes, Hey, and the rue grows bonie wi’ thyme; And he had a wife was the plague of his days, And the thyme it is wither’d, and rue is in prime. Ae day as the carl gaed up the lang glen, Hey, and the rue grows bonie wi’ thyme; […]...
25. Behold, from the land of the farther suns Behold, from the land of the farther suns I returned. And I was in a reptile-swarming place, Peopled, otherwise, with grimaces, Shrouded above in black impenetrableness. I shrank, loathing, Sick with it. And I said to him, “What is this?” He made answer slowly, “Spirit, this is a world; This was your home.”...
26. Myself and Mine MYSELF and mine gymnastic ever, To stand the cold or heat-to take good aim with a gun-to sail a boat-to manage horses-to beget superb children, To speak readily and clearly-to feel at home among common people, And to hold our own in terrible positions, on land and sea. Not for an embroiderer; (There will always […]...
27. Property The red-roofed house of dream design Looks three ways on the sea; For fifty years I’ve made it mine, And held it part of me. The pines I planted in my youth Triumpantly are tall. . . Yet now I know with sorry sooth I have to leave it all. Hard-hewn from out the living […]...
28. The Mad Gardener's Song He thought he saw an Elephant, That practised on a fife: He looked again, and found it was A letter from his wife. ‘At length I realise,’ he said, The bitterness of Life!’ He thought he saw a Buffalo Upon the chimney-piece: He looked again, and found it was His Sister’s Husband’s Niece. ‘Unless you […]...
29. The Twins Give” and ”It-shall-be-given-unto-you.” I. Grand rough old Martin Luther Bloomed fables – flowers on furze, The better the uncouther: Do roses stick like burrs? II. A beggar asked an alms One day at an abbey-door, Said Luther; but, seized with qualms, The abbot replied, ”We’re poor! III. ”Poor, who had plenty once, ”When gifts fell […]...
30. The Parson's Son This is the song of the parson’s son, as he squats in his shack alone, On the wild, weird nights, when the Northern Lights shoot up from the frozen zone, And it’s sixty below, and couched in the snow the hungry huskies moan: “I’m one of the Arctic brotherhood, I’m an old-time pioneer. I came […]...
31. The Wrong Way Home All night a door floated down the river. It tried to remember little incidents of pleasure From its former life, like the time the lovers Leaned against it kissing for hours And whispering those famous words. Later, there were harsh words and a shoe Was thrown and the door was slammed. Comings and goings by […]...
32. 308. The Epitaph on Captain Matthew Henderson STOP, passenger! my story’s brief, And truth I shall relate, man; I tell nae common tale o’ grief, For Matthew was a great man. If thou uncommon merit hast, Yet spurn’d at Fortune’s door, man; A look of pity hither cast, For Matthew was a poor man. If thou a noble sodger art, That passest […]...
33. Exchanges All that I had I brought, Little enough I know; A poor rhyme roughly wrought, A rose to match thy snow: All that I had I brought. Little enough I sought: But a word compassionate, A passing glance, or thought, For me outside the gate: Little enough I sought. Little enough I found: All that […]...
34. The Judgement The Judge looked down, his face was grim, He scratched his ear; The gangster’s moll looked up at him With eyes of fear. She thought: ‘This guy in velvet gown, With balding pate, Who now on me is looking down, Can seal my fate.’ The Judge thought: ‘Fifteen years or ten I might decree. Just […]...
35. Lingering by the doorway of the woods I was picking blackberries when I thought of the strange girl at the mental hospital. Beautiful she was – quietly beautiful. Yes – and apparently nothing the matter with Her – except that she was scared to go outside, and scared to go indoors. And so she just sat there in a chair by the […]...
36. Dreams I had a dream, a dream of dread: I thought that horror held the house; A burglar bent above my bed, He moved as quiet as a mouse. With hairy hand and naked knife He poised to plunge a bloody stroke, Until despairful of my life I shrieked with terror – and awoke. I had […]...
37. Prelude How could I love you more? I would give up Even that beauty I have loved too well That I might love you better. Alas, how poor the gifts that lovers give I can but give you of my flesh and strength, I can but give you these few passing days And passionate words that, […]...
38. Calvary Friendless and faint, with martyred steps and slow, Faint for the flesh, but for the spirit free, Stung by the mob that came to see the show, The Master toiled along to Calvary; We gibed him, as he went, with houndish glee, Till his dimmed eyes for us did overflow; We cursed his vengeless hands […]...
39. 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), […]...
40. Plebeian Plutocrat I own a gorgeous Cadillac, A chauffeur garbed in blue; And as I sit behind his back His beefy neck I view. Yet let me whisper, though you may Think me a queer old cuss, From Claude I often sneak away To board a bus. A democrat, I love the crowd, The bustle and the […]...