Thomas William Hodgson Crosland
What tale is this which stirs a world of knaves Out of its grubbing to throw greasy pence Forth to the hat, and choke with eloquence
At five o'clock they ring a tinkly bell; The April dawn glimmers along the beds, There is a lifting up of weary heads
Lieutenant Keen was "great," and yet He would look over the parapet; And something smacked him in the head,
A for Arab. This Arab is upset, I fear; Look at his pretty shield and spear.
My eyes catch ruddy necks Sturdily pressed back. All a red-brick moving glint.
CHIDDEN still murmurs, SLAPPED and RAPPED complain, HURT, with a thousand tongues,
You who are still and white And cold like stone; For whom the unfailing light
We were all sore and broken and keen on sleep, Tumours and hearts and dropsies, there we lay, Weary of night and wearier of day,
They have him in a cage And little children run To offer him well-meant bits of bun,
Out of the cloud that covers me And blots the stars and seldom lifts, I thank whatever gods may be
The Motor Car Dumpy Book. This is the old gentleman who used to walk in front of steam-driven carriages on the King's highway. He carried in his hand a red flag which he waved. This is the traction-engine which always came behind the old gentleman, and made such a dreadful noise. If the roads were good it could travel four miles in one hour.
Lo, the Beast that rioteth, Sick with hate and coveting -- To the sons of men he saith,
A minx of seventeen, with rather fine Brown eyes and freckles and a cheerful grin, She saunters up the ward, and stricken sin
Upon the tinkling splintery battlements Which swing and tumble south in ghostly white Behemoth rushes blindly from the night,
My dear Sir, - "There lies a vale in Ida Lovelier
My dear Sir, - In the whole round Of animated nature
My dear Sir, - Oft in the stilly night My thoughts fly
Dear Mr. Leno, It is now many happy weeks Since I had the pleasure of addressing you.
My dear Everybody, - The other day I lunched at a place Where there was a pretty lady.
My dear Madame Bernhardt, - I have been very nigh addressing this ode To the winner of the Derby.
(On his Appearance at Sandringham) Dear Mr. Dan Leno, - This has been a great week
Dear Mr. Pierpont Morgan, - I hasten to give you a hearty British welcome. Come to my arms;
My dear Next Christmas, - It is an excellent journalistic thing, Not to say a poetical thing,
(On the Return of the "Ophir") Most well-behaved little Prince, - As the small boy
My dear Sir William Harcourt, - (I have not time to get up your other distinguished names, So that you must please excuse the plain Sir William),
My dear Muddied Oaf, - While still a youth and all unknown to fame, I went to school.
Dear Sir or Madam (As the case may be), - Peace hath her victories as well as war
My dear Cambridge, You have pulled it off, As all men know.
(Before his Retirement) My dear Sir Michael Hicks-Beach, - The devotion of one's life
My dear Common Golfer, - The game you affect Is a great game
(Aug. 3, 1901) My dear "Daily Mail," - To-day you attain
My dear Deceased Wife's Sister, - (The wife of my bosom being still happily amongst us, The above,
(On their Proposal to Banish Barmaids) May it please your Worships, For years past, Glasgow has stood in the forefront
Dear Brindle, - Possibly your name is not Brindle, But that is of no consequence;
(November 9th) My dear Lord Mayor, - In Fleet Street all is gay
My dear Sir, - I suppose you are having an excellent time just now. There are a large number of counties
My dear Sir, - When men have nightmares, they dream about you. I myself have been chased over the tops of pinnacles
My dear Poet Laureate, - Do not, I implore you, Be perturbed.
May it please your Holiness There are possibly two, Or it may be three,
My dear Sir, - You may think it unkind of me To interrupt the peaceful calm of your holiday
(Touching his Audience of the King) My dear Mr. Chamberlain, Since you last heard from me,
(On its Centenary) My dear Stock Exchange, - I am given to understand
My dear Sir, or Madam, - When James Watt, Or some such person,
(After Peace Night) Dear Sir, or Madam, As the case may be,
(After Dunkirk) My dear Tsar, - I am owing you
