Sprig Has Cub.

Sprig, Sprig--Oh lovely Sprig!
    Oh, hast thou cub to stay?
Add wilt the little birdies sig
    Throughout the livelog day?
What bessage dost thou brig to be,
    Fair Lady of by dreabs--
Dost whisper of the babblig brook
    Ad fishig poles ad streabs?

Those happy days have cub agaid,
    The sweetest of the year,
Whed bad cad raise ad appetite
    Ad wholesub thirst for beer.
I've often thought id wudder, Sprig,
    Of how the lily grows,
But the thig that's botherig be dow
    Is how to sprig dew clothes.

Sprig, Sprig--Oh lovely Sprig!
    By thoughts are all of you
I saw a robid yesterday--
    How strange it seebs--ad dew!
I've got a dreadful cold, Fair Sprig,
    Or else I'd sig to thee
Ad air frob Beddelssohd, perhaps,
    Or "The Shade of the Old Apple Tree."

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

Why The Mole Is Blind.

Edwin C. Ranck, Simple Poetry

The Alarm Clock.

Edwin C. Ranck, Simple Poetry

Lent.

Edwin C. Ranck, Simple Poetry

A Pun From The Deep.

Edwin C. Ranck, Simple Poetry

English

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Now Spring Has Clad The Grove In Green. To Mr. Cunningham.

I.

    Now spring has clad the grove in green,
        And strew'd the lea wi' flowers:
    The furrow'd waving corn is seen
        Rejoice in fostering showers;
    While ilka thing in nature join
        Their sorrows to forego,
    O why thus all alone are mine
        The weary steps of woe?

II.

    The trout within yon wimpling burn
        Glides swift, a silver dart,
    And safe beneath the shady thorn
        Defies the angler's art:
    My life was ance that careless stream,
        That wanton trout was I;
    But love, wi' unrelenting beam,
        Has scorch'd my fountains dry.

III.

    The little flow'ret's peaceful lot,
        In yonder cliff that grows,
    Which, save the linnet's flight...

Robert Burns

Mr. And Mrs. Spikky Sparrow.



    I.

On a little piece of wood
Mr. Spikky Sparrow stood:
Mrs. Sparrow sate close by,
A-making of an insect-pie
For her little children five,
In the nest and all alive;
Singing with a cheerful smile,
To amuse them all the while,
"Twikky wikky wikky wee,
Wikky bikky twikky tee,
Spikky bikky bee!"


    II.

Mrs. Spikky Sparrow said,
"Spikky, darling! in my head
Many thoughts of trouble come,
Like to flies upon a plum.
All last night, among the trees,
I heard you cough, I heard you sneeze;
And thought I, 'It's come to that
Because he does not wear a hat!'
Chippy wippy sikky tee,
Bikky wikky tikky mee,
Spikky chippy wee!


    III.

Edward Lear

Berries

There was an old woman
    Went blackberry picking
Along the hedges
    From Weep to Wicking. -
Half a pottle-
    No more she had got,
When out steps a Fairy
    From her green grot;
And says, 'Well, Jill,
    Would 'ee pick ee mo?'
And Jill, she curtseys,
    And looks just so.
Be off,' says the Fairy,
    'As quick as you can,
Over the meadows
    To the little green lane
That dips to the hayfields
    Of Farmer Grimes:
I've berried those hedges
    A score of times;
Bushel on bushel
    I'll promise'ee, Jill,
This side of supper
    If'ee pick with a will.'
She glints very bright,
    And speaks her fair;
Then lo, and behold!
    She had faded in air.

Be sure Old Goodie
    She trots be...

Walter De La Mare

The Gardener And The Robin

Why! Bobbie, so thou's coom agean!
    I'm fain to see thee here;
It's lang sin I've set een on thee,
    It's ommost hauf a yeer.
What's that thou says? Thou's taen a wife
    An' raised a family.
It seems thou's gien 'em all the slip
    Now back-end's drawin' nigh.

I mun forgi'e thee; we're owd friends,
    An' fratchin's not for us;
Blackbirds an' spinks(1) I can't abide,
    At doves an' crows I cuss.
But thou'll noan steal my strawberries,
    Or nip my buds o' plum;
Most feather-fowl I drive away,
    But thou can awlus coom.

Ay, that's thy place, at top o' t' clod,
    Thy heead cocked o' one side,
Lookin' as far-learnt as a judge.
    Is that a worrm thou's spied?
By t' Megs! he's well-nigh six inch lang,
    An' r...

Frederic William Moorman

Berries

There was an old woman
    Went blackberry picking
Along the hedges
    From Weep to Wicking.
Half a pottle -
    No more she had got,
When out steps a Fairy
    From her green grot;
And says, "Well, Jill,
    Would 'ee pick 'ee mo?"
And Jill, she curtseys,
    And looks just so.
"Be off," says the Fairy,
    "As quick as you can,
Over the meadows
    To the little green lane,
That dips to the hayfields
    Of Farmer Grimes:
I've berried those hedges
    A score of times;
Bushel on bushel
    I'll promise 'ee, Jill,
This side of supper
    If 'ee pick with a will."
She glints very bright,
    And speaks her fair;
Then lo, and behold!
    She has faded in air.

Be sure old Goodie
    She trot...

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An Ode To Spring (To Grant And Nellie Allen)

Is it the Spring?
    Or are the birds all wrong
That play on flute and viol,
    A thousand strong,
In minstrel galleries
    Of the long deep wood,
Epiphanies
    Of bloom and bud.

Grave minstrels those,
    Of deep responsive chant;
But see how yonder goes,
    Dew-drunk, with giddy slant,
Yon Shelley-lark,
    And hark!
Him on the giddy brink
    Of pearly heaven
His fairy anvil clink.

Or watch, in fancy,
    How the brimming note
Falls, like a string of pearls,
    From out his heavenly throat;
Or like a fountain
    In Hesperides,
Raining its silver rain,
    In gleam and chime,
On backs of ivory girls -
    Twice happy rhyme!

Ah, none of these
    May make it plain,
No im...

Richard Le Gallienne