Courtship

There was an old monk of Siberia,
Whose existence grew drearier and drearier;
    He burst from his cell
    With a hell of a yell,
    And eloped with the Mother Superior.

Unknown

The identity of this poet is not known. Their works, which are often of significant historical or cultural value, have been attributed to 'Unknown'. This designation is commonly used when the creator of works, ranging from ancient texts to more modern writings, remains anonymous or uncredited. Despite the lack of personal details, the impact and importance of these works endure, offering insight into the eras and cultures from which they originated.

Unknown

Nursery Rhyme. CCLXXXI. Games.

Unknown , Simple Poetry

Nursery Rhyme. CCCXCVII. Lullabies.

Unknown , Simple Poetry

Nursery Rhyme. VII. Historical

Unknown , Simple Poetry

Nursery Rhyme. CXXXVIII. Songs.

Unknown , Simple Poetry

English

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Courtship

    There was a young man from the West,
    Who loved a young lady with zest;
    So hard did he press her
    To make her say, "Yes, sir,"
    That he broke three cigars in his vest.

Unknown

Courtship

    Augustus Fitzgibbons Moran
    Fell in love with Maria McCann.
        With a yell and a whoop
        He cleared the front stoop
    Just ahead of her papa's brogan.

Unknown

Categorical Courtship

I sat one night beside a blue-eyed girl,
    The fire was out, and so, too, was her mother;
A feeble flame around the lamp did curl,
    Making faint shadows, blending in each other:
'Twas nearly twelve o'clock, too, in November;
She had a shawl on, also, I remember.

Well, I had been to see her every night
    For thirteen days, and had a sneaking notion
To pop the question, thinking all was right,
    And once or twice had make an awkward motion
To take her hand, and stammer'd, cough'd, and stutter'd,
But, somehow, nothing to the point had utter'd.

I thought this chance too good now to be lost;
    I hitched my chair up pretty close beside her,
Drew a long breath, and then my legs I cross'd,
    Bent over, sighed, and for five minutes eyed her:
Sh...

Unknown

The Psalter

ONCE more permit me, nuns, and this the last;
I can't resist, whatever may have passed,
But must relate, what often I've been told;
Your tales of convent pranks are seldom cold;
They have a grace that no where else we find,
And, somehow, better seem to please designed.
Another then we'll have, which three will make: -
Three did I say?-'tis four, or I mistake;
Let's count them well:-The GARD'NER first, we'll name;
Then comes the ABBESS, whose declining frame
Required a youth, her malady to cure
A story thought, perhaps, not over pure;
And, as to SISTER JANE, who'd got a brat,
I cannot fancy we should alter that.
These are the whole, and four's a number round;
You'll probably remark, 'tis strange I've found
Such pleasure in detailing convent scenes: -
'Tis ...

Jean de La Fontaine

Nursery Rhyme. CCCCXLII. Love And Matrimony.

    It's once I courted as pretty a lass,
    As ever your eyes did see;
    But now she's come to such a pass,
    She never will do for me.
    She invited me to her own house,
    Where oft I'd been before,
    And she tumbled me into the hog-tub,
    And I'll never go there any more.

Unknown

The Convent Gardener Of Lamporechio

WHEN Cupid with his dart, would hearts assail,
The rampart most secure is not the VEIL;
A husband better will the FAIR protect,
Than walls or lattices, I much suspect.
Those parents, who in nunneries have got
Their daughters (whether willingly or not),
Most clearly in a glaring error prove,
To fancy God will round their actions move;
'Tis an abuse of what we hold divine;
The Devil with them surely must combine.
Besides, 'twere folly to suppose that vice
Ne'er entered convent walls, and nuns were ice.
A very diff'rent sentiment I hold:
Girls, who in publick move, however bold,
Have greater terrors lest they get a stain;
For, honour lost, they never fame regain.
Few enemies their modesty attack;
The others have but one their minds to rack.
TEMPTATION, ...

Jean de La Fontaine