The Hippopotamus

I shoot the Hippopotamus
With bullets made of platinum,
Because if I use leaden ones
His hide is sure to flatten 'em.

Hilaire Belloc

Hilaire Belloc was an Anglo-French writer and historian, known for his poetry, essays, and children's books. Born on July 27, 1870, in France, he became a British citizen and was a prominent figure in early 20th-century British literature. Belloc was a devout Catholic, which significantly influenced his writings. He was a close friend of G.K. Chesterton and shared similar views on social and political issues. Belloc passed away on July 16, 1953, leaving behind a rich legacy of literary works.

Hilaire Belloc

George

Hilaire Belloc, Simple Poetry

Rebecca

Hilaire Belloc, Simple Poetry

The Scorpion

Hilaire Belloc, Simple Poetry

On The Little God

Hilaire Belloc, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

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

The Hippopotamus.

"OH, say, what is this fearful, wild
In-cor-ri-gible cuss?"
"This crea-ture (don't say 'cuss,' my child;
'T is slang) - this crea-ture fierce is styled The Hip-po-pot-am-us.
His curious name de-rives its source
From two Greek words: hippos - a horse,
Potamos - river.    See?
The river's plain e-nough, of course;
But why they called that thing a horse,
That's what is Greek to me."

Oliver Herford

The Elephant

When people call this beast to mind,
They marvel more and more
At such a little tail behind,
So large a trunk before.

Hilaire Belloc

Mouths Of Hippopotami And Some Recent Novels

(with apologies to Frederic Taber Cooper)

I well recall (and who does not)
The circus bill-board hippopotamus,
whose wide distended jaws
For fear and terror were good cause.

That month, that vasty carmine cave,
Could munch with ease a Nubian slave;
In fact, the bill-board hippopot-
amus could bolt a house and lot!

Wide opened, that tremendous mouth
Obscured three-quarters of the south
Side of Schmidts barn, and promised me
Thrills, shocks, delights and ecstasy.

And then, alas! what sad non plus
The living hippopotamus!
Twas but a stupid, sodden lump
As thrilling as an old elm stump.

Its mouth, unreasonably small,
The hippo opened not at all,
Or, if it did, it was about
As thrilling as a teapot spout.

Ellis Parker Butler

The Lion

The Lion, the Lion, he dwells in the Waste,
He has a big head and a very small waist;
But his shoulders are stark, and his jaws they are grim,
And a good little child will not play with him.

Hilaire Belloc

The Hunter

A full-fledged gun cannot endure
The trifling of an amateur;
Poor marksmanship its temper spoils
And this is why the gun recoils.

A self-respecting gun Im sure
Delights to jar the amateur
And thinks that it is no disgrace
To kick his shoulder out of place.

Moral

When you go out to hunt, my son
Prepare to circumvent your gun
And on your shoulder firmly bind
A pillow of the largest kind.

Ellis Parker Butler

Parallels For The Pious.

"He holds a pistol to my head,
Swearing that he will shoot me dead,
If he have not my purse instead,
            The robber!"

"He, with the lash of wealth and power,
Flogs out my heart and flings the dower,
The plundered pittance of his hour,
            The robber!"

"He shakes his serpent tongue that lies,
Wins trust for poisoned sophistries
And stabs me in the dark, and flies,
            The assassin!"

"He pits me in the dreadful fight
Against my fellow. Then he quite
Strips both his victims in the night,
            The assassin!"

Francis William Lauderdale Adams