Category Poets

If the moon came from heaven,Talking all the way,What could she have to tell us,And what could she say?‘I’ve seen a hundred pretty things,And seen a hundred gay;But only think: I peep by nightAnd do not peep by day!’

If stars dropped out of heaven,And if flowers took their place,The sky would still look very fair,And fair earth’s face.Winged angels might fly down to usTo pluck the stars,Be we could only long for flowersBeyond the cloudy bars.

If I were a Queen,What would I do?I’d make you King,And I’d wait on you.If I were a King,What would I do?I’d make you Queen,For I’d marry you.

If hope grew on a bush,And joy grew on a tree,What a nosegay for the pluckingThere would be!But oh! in windy autumn,When frail flowers wither,What should we do for hope and joy,Fading together?

If all were rain and never sun,No bow could span the hill;If all were sun and never rain,There’d be no rainbow still.

If a pig wore a wig,What could we say?Treat him as a gentleman,And say ‘Good day.’If his tail chanced to fail,What could we do?—Send him to the tailoressTo get one new.

If a mouse could fly,Or if a crow could swim,Or if a sprat could walk and talk,I’d like to be like him.If a mouse could fly,He might fly away;Or if a crow could swim,It might turn him grey;Or if a…

I planted a handAnd there came up a palm,I planted a heartAnd there came up balm.Then I planted a wish,But there sprang a thorn,While heaven frowned with thunderAnd earth sighed forlorn.

I know a baby, such a baby,—Round blue eyes and cheeks of pink,Such an elbow furrowed with dimples,Such a wrist where creases sink.‘Cuddle and love me, cuddle and love me,’Crows the mouth of coral pink:Oh, the bald head, and, oh,…

I have but one rose in the world,And my one rose stands a-drooping:Oh, when my single rose is deadThere’ll be but thorns for stooping.