Blackman the Giant.

This is the long and
    The short of it too:
One dolly stood still,
    The other one grew.

She who is little
    Prefers to be tall;
Blackman the giant
    Would like to be small.

Richard Hunter

No biography available

Richard Hunter

Policeman.

Richard Hunter, Simple Poetry

Blue-Coat.

Richard Hunter, Simple Poetry

Dame Crump.

Richard Hunter, Simple Poetry

English

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Jack The Giant Killer.

    Bad Boy's Version.

    Tell you a story - an' it's a fac': -
    Wunst wuz a little boy, name wuz Jack,
    An' he had sword an' buckle an' strap
    Maked of gold, an' a "'visibul cap;"
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James Whitcomb Riley

The Wee Man. - A Romance.

It was a merry company,
And they were just afloat,
When lo! a man, of dwarfish span,
Came up and hailed the boat.

"Good morrow to ye, gentle folks,
And will you let me in?
A slender space will serve my case,
For I am small and thin."

They saw he was a dwarfish man,
And very small and thin;
Not seven such would matter much,
And so they took him in.

They laughed to see his little hat,
With such a narrow brim;
They laughed to note his dapper coat,
With skirts so scant and trim.

But barely had they gone a mile,
When, gravely, one and all
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His coat had got a broader skirt,
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His leg grew stout, and soon plumped out
A very prope...

Thomas Hood

Black Samson Of Brandywine

"In the fight at Brandywine, Black Samson, a giant negro armed with a scythe, sweeps his way through the red ranks...." C. M. Skinner's "Myths and Legends of Our Own Land."

Gray are the pages of record,
Dim are the volumes of eld;
Else had old Delaware told us
More that her history held.
Told us with pride in the story,
Honest and noble and fine,
More of the tale of my hero,
Black Samson of Brandywine.

Sing of your chiefs and your nobles,
Saxon and Celt and Gaul,
Breath of mine ever shall join you,
Highly I honor them all.
Give to them all of their glory,
But for this noble of mine,
Lend him a tithe of your tribute,
Black Samson of Brandywine.

There in the heat of the battle,
There in the stir of the fight,
Loomed he, an...

Paul Laurence Dunbar

The Story Of The Inky Boys

As he had often done before,
The woolly-headed Black-a-moor
One nice fine summer's day went out
To see the shops, and walk about;
And, as he found it hot, poor fellow,
He took with him his green umbrella,
Then Edward, little noisy wag,
Ran out and laughed, and waved his flag;
And William came in jacket trim,
And brought his wooden hoop with him;
And Arthur, too, snatched up his toys
And joined the other naughty boys.
So, one and all set up a roar,
And laughed and hooted more and more,
And kept on singing,--only think!--
"Oh, Blacky, you're as black as ink!"

Now tall Agrippa lived close by--
So tall, he almost touched the sky;
He had a mighty inkstand, too,
In which a great goose-feather grew;
He called out in an angry tone
"Boys,...

Heinrich Hoffmann

Kith And Kin

    Once there was a giant
    who lived in a kneecap,
    a peculiar giant at that
    who expelled all reality
    as a pig might a poke.

    Not concerned with the dilemma
    of easing life's toothpaste form
    into dental crustings or
    oblivion's dark shadows
    from lightless paths,
    the giant assumed guardianship
    over his fibro-tissual home.

    The giant could be seen
    ferrying dwarfed bones
    over the inter causal dome
    of flesh and blood.

    At times, he substituted
    a remarkable likeness
    for his kith and kin
    by dumping calloused cushions,
    too long cousins
    of the diaper rash effect
    bunions, corns,
    carbuncles
    eager to roam
    the padlock...

Paul Cameron Brown

Old Stuff

If I go to see the play,
    Of the story I am certain;
Promptly it gets under way
    With the lifting of the curtain.
Builded all that's said and done
    On the ancient recipe -
'Tis the same old Two and One:
    A and B in love with C.

If I read the latest book,
    There's the mossy situation;
One may confidently look
    For the trite triangulation.
Old as time, but ever new,
    Seemingly, this tale of Three -
Same old yarn of One and Two:
    A and C in love with B.

If I cast my eyes around,
    Far and near and middle distance,
Still the formula is found
    In our everyday existence.
Everywhere I look I see -
    Fact or fiction, life or play -
Still the little game of Three:
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Bert Leston Taylor