On A Crushed Hat

Brown was my friend, and faithful--but so fat!
    He came to see me in the twilight dim;
    I rose politely and invited him
To take a seat--how heavily he sat!

He sat upon the sofa, where my hat,
    My wanton Zephyr, rested on its rim;
    Its build, unlike my friend's, was rather slim,
And when he rose, I saw it, crushed and flat.

O Hat, that wast the apple of my eye,
    Thy brim is bent, six cracks are in thy crown,
            And I shall never wear thee any more;
Upon a shelf thy loved remains shall lie,
    And with the years the dust will settle down
            On thee, the neatest hat I ever wore!

Robert Fuller Murray

Robert Fuller Murray was a Scottish poet known for his lyrical and expressive poetry. Born on December 26, 1863, in Roxbury, Massachusetts, he moved to Scotland at a young age. Despite a short life, ending on April 15, 1894, Murray left a significant mark with his works, which often reflected themes of nature and human emotion. His poetry is characterized by its elegance and depth of feeling. Murray's influence remained through posthumous publications and collections of his poetry.

Robert Fuller Murray

The Close Of The Session

Robert Fuller Murray, Simple Poetry

A New Song To An Old Tune--From Victor Hugo

Robert Fuller Murray, Simple Poetry

Where's The Use

Robert Fuller Murray, Simple Poetry

The Life Of Earth

Robert Fuller Murray, 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.

The Poet's Hat

The rain had fallen, the Poet arose,
    He passed through the doorway into the street,
A strong wind lifted his hat from his head,
    And he uttered some words that were far from sweet.
And then he started to follow the chase,
    And put on a spurt that was wild and fleet,
It made the people pause in a crowd,
    And lay odds as to which would beat.

The street cad scoffed as he hunted the hat,
    The errand-boy shouted hooray!
The scavenger stood with his broom in his hand,
    And smiled in a very rude way;
And the clergyman thought, 'I have heard many words,
    But never, until to-day,
Did I hear any words that were quite so bad
    As I heard that young man say.'

Robert Fuller Murray

That Old Straw Hat Of Mine.

(With Apologies To Riley.)


I.

As one who dreams at evening o'er the new hats that he's worn,
And muses on the better times that once to him were known,
So I turn the leaves of fancy till, in shadowy design,
I see the faded ribbon on that old straw hat of mine.


II.

The firelight seems to mock me as the ruddy flames arise,
And I turn about to rest me of the dazzle in my eyes;
And I ponder then in silence, save a sigh that seems to yoke
Its fate with my condition, and to vanish like the smoke.


III.

With fondest recollection the loving thoughts that start
Into being are but feelings from the bottom of my heart;
And to wear the new hats over is a luxury divine--
Till my truant fancy wanders with that old straw hat of...

George W. Doneghy

An Interview

I met him down upon the pier;
    His eyes were wild and sad,
And something in them made me fear
    That he was going mad.

So, being of a prudent sort,
    I stood some distance off,
And before speaking gave a short
    Conciliatory cough.

I then observed, 'What makes you look
    So singularly glum?'
No notice of my words he took.
    I said, 'Pray, are you dumb?'

'Oh no!' he said, 'I do not think
    My power of speech is lost,
But when one's hopes are black as ink,
    Why, talking is a frost.

'You see, I'm in for Math. again,
    And certain to be ploughed.
Please tell me where I could obtain
    An inexpensive shroud.'

I told him where such things are had,
    Well made, and not too dear;
And, f...

Robert Fuller Murray

Stanzas For Music

I loved a little maiden
    In the golden years gone by;
She lived in a mill, as they all do
    (There is doubtless a reason why).
But she faded in the autumn
    When the leaves began to fade,
And the night before she faded,
    These words to me she said:
'Do not forget me, Henry,
    Be noble and brave and true;
But I must not bide, for the world is wide,
    And the sky above is blue.'

So I said farewell to my darling,
    And sailed away and came back;
And the good ship Jane was in port again,
    And I found that they all loved Jack.
But Polly and I were sweethearts,
    As all the neighbours know,
Before I met with the mill-girl
    Twenty years ago.
So I thought I would go and see her,
    But alas, she had faded ...

Robert Fuller Murray

Death At The Window

This morning, while we sat in talk
    Of spring and apple-bloom,
Lo!    Death stood in the garden walk,
    And peered into the room.

Your back was turned, you did not see
    The shadow that he made.
He bent his head and looked at me;
    It made my soul afraid.

The words I had begun to speak
    Fell broken in the air.
You saw the pallor of my cheek,
    And turned--but none was there.

He came as sudden as a thought,
    And so departed too.
What made him leave his task unwrought?
    It was the sight of you.

Though Death but seldom turns aside
    From those he means to take,
He would not yet our hearts divide,
    For love and pity's sake.

Robert Fuller Murray

To A Mountain Daisy, On Turning One Down With The Plough In April, 1786.

    Wee, modest, crimson-tipped flow'r,
    Thou's met me in an evil hour;
    For I maun crush amang the stoure
        Thy slender stem:
    To spare thee now is past my pow'r,
        Thou bonnie gem.

    Alas! it's no thy neebor sweet,
    The bonnie lark, companion meet!
    Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet,
        Wi' spreckl'd breast,
    When upward-springing, blythe, to greet
        The purpling east.

    Cauld blew the bitter-biting north
    Upon thy early, humble birth;
    Yet cheerfully thou glinted forth
        Amid the storm,
    Scarce rear'd above the parent earth
        Thy tender form.

    The flaunting flowers our gardens yield,
    High shelt'ring woods and wa's maun shield
    But thou, beneath t...

Robert Burns