At The Telephone.

Ting-ling--"South, please, 1085;
    Why hello, Jim--Oh, Saints alive!
It's south, I told you--hello; no,
    I said once that I could not go.

"Say, can you meet me there tonight?
    Confound it, Jim, you must be tight.
What are you saying anyhow,
    I've got the wrong ear by the sow?

"Not pretty? Why, she's out o'sight,
    Oh, shut up; that will be all right.
You can't walk there? Why it ain't far;
    We get there on a 'lectric car.

"Well, Great Scott, man, don't talk all day,
    But let me know now right away.
Miss B----, Oh, let the old girl wait;
    We won't be out so very late.

"You will? All right then--eight o'clock;
    Be sure and meet me on the block,
Remember now, don't get it wrong;
    All right, old man (Ting-ling), so long."

Edwin C. Ranck

Edwin C. Ranck was an American lyricist noted for his work in the early 20th century. He was a prolific writer and his lyrics were often characterized by their humor and wit. One of his standout works is the poem 'The Optimist', which reflects his positive outlook on life. Beyond that, little is known about his personal life or career. He remains a somewhat obscure figure in literary history.

Edwin C. Ranck

L'Envoi.

Edwin C. Ranck, Simple Poetry

If I Were City Editor.

Edwin C. Ranck, Simple Poetry

Christmas Toys.

Edwin C. Ranck, Simple Poetry

The County Fair.

Edwin C. Ranck, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Jim

Say there! Praps
Some on you chaps
Might know Jim Wild?
Well, no offense:
Thar aint no sense
In gittin riled!

Jim was my chum
Up on the Bar:
Thats why I come
Down from up yar,
Lookin for Jim.
Thank ye, sir! You
Aint of that crew,
Blest if you are!

Money? Not much:
That aint my kind;
I aint no such.
Rum? I dont mind,
Seein its you.

Well, this yer Jim,
Did you know him?
Jes bout your size;
Same kind of eyes;
Well, that is strange:
Why, its two year
Since he came here,
Sick, for a change.

Well, heres to us:
Eh?
The h    you say!
Dead?
That little cuss?

What makes you star,
You over thar?
Cant a man drop
s glass in yer sho...

Bret Harte

The Train Misser

At Union Station

'Ll where in the world my eyes has bin -
Ef I hain't missed that train ag'in!
Chuff! And whistle! And toot! And ring!
But blast and blister the dasted train!
How it does it I can't explain!
Git here thirty-five minutes before
The durn things due! And, drat the thing
It'll manage to git past-shore!

The more I travel around, the more
I got no sense! To stand right here
And let it beat me! 'Ll ding my melts!
I got no gumption, ner nothin' else!
Ticket Agent's a dad-burned bore!
Sell you a tickets all they keer!
Ticket Agents ort to all be

Prosecuted - and that's jes what!
How'd I know which train's fer me?
And how'd I know which train was not?
Goern and comin' and gone astray,
And backin' and switchin' ever'-...

James Whitcomb Riley

Miss Edith Makes Another Friend

Oh, youre the girl lives on the corner? Come in if you want to come quick!
Theres no one but me in the house, and the cook but shes only a stick.
Dont try the front way, but come over the fence through the window thats how.
Dont mind the big dog he wont bite you just see him obey me! there, now!

Whats your name? Mary Ellen? How funny! Mines Edith its nicer, you see;
But yours does for you, for youre plainer, though maybe youre gooder than me;
For Jack says Im sometimes a devil, but Jack, of all folks, neednt talk,
For I dont call the seamstress an angel till Ma says the poor thing must walk.

Come in! Its quite dark in the parlor, for sister will keep the blinds down,
For you know her complexion is sallow like yours, but she isnt as brown;
Though Jack says tha...

Bret Harte

A Florida Ghost.

Down mildest shores of milk-white sand,
By cape and fair Floridian bay,
Twixt billowy pines - a surf asleep on land -
And the great Gulf at play,

Past far-off palms that filmed to nought,
Or in and out the cunning keys
That laced the land like fragile patterns wrought
To edge old broideries,

The sail sighed on all day for joy,
The prow each pouting wave did leave
All smile and song, with sheen and ripple coy,
Till the dusk diver Eve

Brought up from out the brimming East
The oval moon, a perfect pearl.
In that large lustre all our haste surceased,
The sail seemed fain to furl,

The silent steersman landward turned,
And ship and shore set breast to breast.
Under a palm wherethrough a planet burned
We ate, and sank to rest.

Sidney Lanier

The Telephone

'When I was just as far as I could walk
From here today,
There was an hour
All still
When leaning with my head again a flower
I heard you talk.
Don't say I didn't, for I heard you say
You spoke from that flower on the window sill
Do you remember what it was you said?'

'First tell me what it was you thought you heard.'

'Having found the flower and driven a bee away,
I leaned on my head
And holding by the stalk,
I listened and I thought I caught the word
What was it? Did you call me by my name?
Or did you say
Someone said "Come" I heard it as I bowed.'

'I may have thought as much, but not aloud.'

"Well, so I came.'

Robert Lee Frost

The Old Band

It's mighty good to git back to the old town, shore,
Considerin' I've be'n away twenty year and more.
Sence I moved then to Kansas, of course I see a change,
A-comin' back, and notice things that's new to me and strange;
Especially at evening when yer new band-fellers meet,
In fancy uniforms and all, and play out on the street -
. . . What's come of old Bill Lindsey and the Saxhorn fellers - say?
    I want to hear the old band play.

What's come of Eastman, and Nat Snow? And where's War Barnett at?
And Nate and Bony Meek; Bill Hart; Tom Richa'son and that-
Air brother of him played the drum as twic't as big as Jim;
And old Hi Kerns, the carpenter - say, what's become o' him?
I make no doubt yer new band now's a competenter band,
And plays their mus...

James Whitcomb Riley