Neglectful Edward.

        Nancy

"Edward back from the Indian Sea,
What have you brought for Nancy?"

        Edward

"A rope of pearls and a gold earring,
And a bird of the East that will not sing.
A carven tooth, a box with a key, "

        Nancy

"God be praised you are back," says she,
"Have you nothing more for your Nancy?"

        Edward

"Long as I sailed the Indian Sea
I gathered all for your fancy:
Toys and silk and jewels I bring,
And a bird of the East that will not sing:
What more can you want, dear girl, from me?"

        Nancy

"God be praised you are back," said she,
"Have you nothing better for Nancy?"

        Edward

"Safe and home from the Indian Sea,
And nothing to take your fancy?"


        Nancy

"You can keep your pearls and your gold earring,
And your bird of the East that will not sing,
But, Ned, have you nothing more for me
Than heathenish gew-gaw toys?" says she,
"Have you nothing better for Nancy?"

Robert von Ranke Graves

Robert von Ranke Graves was a British poet, historical novelist, critic, and classicist. His father was Alfred Perceval Graves, a distinguished Irish poet and figure in the Gaelic revival. Known for his war poetry, love poems, and scholarly works, he created a lasting literary legacy, including his interpretations of the Greek myths. Graves was also a soldier in World War I, an experience that profoundly influenced his writing.

Robert von Ranke Graves

A Dead Boche

Robert von Ranke Graves, Simple Poetry

A Pinch Of Salt

Robert von Ranke Graves, Simple Poetry

Outlaws.

Robert von Ranke Graves, Simple Poetry

The Three Drinkers.

Robert von Ranke Graves, Simple Poetry

English

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

Nancy - A Song.

You ask me, dear Nancy, what makes me presume
That you cherish a secret affection for me?
When we see the Flow'rs bud, don't we look for the Bloom?
Then, sweetest, attend, while I answer to thee.

When we Young Men with pastimes the Twilight beguile,
I watch your plump cheek till it dimples with joy:
And observe, that whatever occasions the smile,
You give me a glance; but provokingly coy.

Last Month, when wild Strawberries pluckt in the Grove,
Like beads on the tall seeded grass you had strung;
You gave me the choicest; I hop'd 'twas for Love;
And I told you my hopes while the Nightingale sung.

Remember the Viper: - 'twas close at your feet;
How you started, and threw yourself into my arms;
Not a Strawberry there was so ripe nor so sweet
As the li...

Robert Bloomfield

The Nancy's Pride

On the long slow heave of a lazy sea,
To the flap of an idle sail,
The Nancy's Pride went out on the tide;
And the skipper stood by the rail.

All down, all down by the sleepy town,
With the hollyhocks a-row
In the little poppy gardens,
The sea had her in tow.

They let her slip by the breathing rip,
Where the bell is never still,
And over the sounding harbor bar,
And under the harbor hill.

She melted into the dreaming noon,
Out of the drowsy land,
In sight of a flag of goldy hair,
To the kiss of a girlish hand.

For the lass who hailed the lad who sailed,
Was--who but his April bride?
And of all the fleet of Grand Latite,
Her pride was the Nancy's Pride.

So the little vessel faded down
With her creaking boom...

Bliss Carman

Nancy.

I.

    Thine am I, my faithful fair,
        Thine, my lovely Nancy;
    Ev'ry pulse along my veins,
        Ev'ry roving fancy.

II.

    To thy bosom lay my heart,
        There to throb and languish:
    Tho' despair had wrung its core,
        That would heal its anguish.

III.

    Take away those rosy lips,
        Rich with balmy treasure:
    Turn away thine eyes of love,
        Lest I die with pleasure.

IV.

    What is life when wanting love?
        Night without a morning:
    Love's the cloudless summer sun,
        Nature gay adorning.

Robert Burns

Nancy Walsh

    It is not on her gown
    She fears to tread;
    It is her hair
    Which tumbles down
    And strays
    About her ways
    That she must care.

    And she lives nigh this place:
    The dead would rise
    If they could see her face;
    The dead would rise
    Only to hear her sing:
    But death is blind, and gives not ear nor eye
    To anything.

    We would leave behind
    Both wife and child,
    And house and home;
    And wander blind,
    And wander thus,
    And ever roam,
    If she would come to us
    In Erris.

    Softly she said to me,
    Be patient till the night comes,
    And I will go with thee.

James Stephens

Vain And Careless.

Lady, lovely lady,
    Careless and gay!
Once when a beggar called
    She gave her child away.

The beggar took the baby,
    Wrapped it in a shawl,
"Bring her back," the lady said,
    "Next time you call."

Hard by lived a vain man,
    So vain and so proud,
He walked on stilts
    To be seen by the crowd.

Up above the chimney pots,
    Tall as a mast,
And all the people ran about
    Shouting till he passed.

"A splendid match surely,"
    Neighbours saw it plain,
"Although she is so careless,
    Although he is so vain."

But the lady played bobcherry,
    Did not see or care,
As the vain man went by her
    Aloft in the air.

This gentle-born couple
    Lived and died apart.

Robert von Ranke Graves

The Yarn Of The "Nancy Bell"

'Twas on the shores that round our coast
From Deal to Ramsgate span,
That I found alone, on a piece of stone,
An elderly naval man.

His hair was weedy, his beard was long,
And weedy and long was he,
And I heard this wight on the shore recite,
In a singular minor key:

"Oh, I am a cook and a captain bold,
And the mate of the Nancy brig,
And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,
And the crew of the captain's gig."

And he shook his fists and he tore his hair.
Till I really felt afraid;
For I couldn't help thinking the man had been drinking,
And so I simply said:

"Oh, elderly man it's little I know
Of the duties of men of the sea,
And I'll eat my hand if I understand
How you can possibly be

"At once a cook, and ...

William Schwenck Gilbert