The Rubaiyat Of A Kentuckian.

Wake for the sun, that scatters into flight,
    The poker players who have stayed all night;
Drives husbands home with reeling steps, and then--
    Gives to the sleepy "cops" an awful fright.

I sometimes think that never blows so red
    The nose, as when the spirits strike the head;
That every step one takes upon the way
    Makes him wish strongly he were home in bed.

The moving finger writes, but having "pull",
    You think that you can settle things in full,
But when you interview the Police Judge,
    You find that you have made an awful bull.

Some nonsense verses underneath the bough,
    A little "booze", a time to loaf, and thou--
Beside me howling in the wilderness,
    Would be enough for one day anyhow.

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

Crabbed.

Edwin C. Ranck, Simple Poetry

If I Were City Editor.

Edwin C. Ranck, Simple Poetry

A Pun From The Deep.

Edwin C. Ranck, Simple Poetry

L'Envoi.

Edwin C. Ranck, Simple Poetry

English

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Chapter Headings

Plain Tales From the Hills

Look, you have cast out Love! What Gods are these
You bid me please?
The Three in One, the One in Three?Not so!
To my own Gods I go.
It may be they shall give me greater ease
Than your cold Christ and tangled Trinities.
- Lispeth.

When the earth was sick and the skies were grey,
And the woods were rotted with rain,
The Dead Man rode through the autumn day
To visit his love again.

His love she neither saw nor heard,
So heavy was her shame;
And tho' the babe within her stirred
She knew not that he came.
- The Other Man.

Cry "Murder" in the market-place, and each
Will turn upon his neighbour anxious eyes
Asking: "Art thou the man?" We hunted Cain
Some centuries ago across the world.
This ...

Rudyard

When The Lid Was On.

They were seated there in silence
    Each one busy with a frown,
It was midnight in the city,
    And the lid was on the town.
They had all been playing poker
    'Mid the rattle of the chink,
When a gloom fell o'er the party,
    For they couldn't buy a drink,
But a little fellow whispered
    As he held a poker hand,
"Can't we get as drunk on water
    As we can upon the land?"
Then we kicked the little rascal,
    And we spoke without a frown,
And we anchored safe in harbor
    When the lid was on the town.

Edwin C. Ranck

La Nuit Blanche

A much-discerning Public hold
The Singer generally sings
And prints and sells his past for gold.

Whatever I may here disclaim,
The very clever folk I sing to
Will most indubitably cling to
Their pet delusion, just the same.


I had seen, as the dawn was breaking
And I staggered to my rest,
Tari Devi softly shaking
From the Cart Road to the crest.
I had seen the spurs of Jakko
Heave and quiver, swell and sink.
Was it Earthquake or tobacco,
Day of Doom, or Night of Drink?

In the full, fresh fragrant morning
I observed a camel crawl,
Laws of gravitation scorning,
On the ceiling and the wall;
Then I watched a fender walking,
And I heard grey leeches sing,
And a red-hot monkey talking
Did not seem the proper thing...

Rudyard

Possibilities

Ay, lay him 'neath the Simla pine,
A fortnight fully to be missed,
Behold, we lose our fourth at whist,
A chair is vacant where we dine.

His place forgets him; other men
Have bought his ponies, guns, and traps.
His fortune is the Great Perhaps
And that cool rest-house down the glen,

Whence he shall hear, as spirits may,
Our mundance revel on the height,
Shall watch each flashing 'rickshaw-light
Sweep on to dinner, dance, and play.

Benmore shall woo him to the ball
With lighted rooms and braying band;
And he shall hear and understand
"Dream Faces" better than us all.

For, think you, as the vapours flee
Across Sanjaolie after rain,
His soul may climb the hill again
To each of field of victory.

Unseen, who women h...

Rudyard

To Edward Fitzgerald

(MARCH 31ST, 1909)

    'Tis a sad fate
        To watch the world fighting,
    All that is most fair
        Ruthlessly blighting,
            Blighting, ah! blighting.

    When such a thought cometh
        Let us not pine,
    But gather old friends
        Round the red wine--
            Oh! pour the red wine!

    And there we'll talk
        And warm our wits
    With Eastern fallacies
        Out of old Fitz!
            British old Fitz!

    See him, half statesman--
        Philosopher too--
    Half ancient mariner
        In baggy blue--
            Such baggy blue!

    Whimsical, wistful,
        Haughty, forsooth:
    Indolent always, yet
        Ardent in truth,
          ...

Henry John Newbolt

Measure For Measure.

By O--r K--m.

Wake! for the closed Pavilion doors have kept
Their silence while the white-eyed Kaffir slept,
    And wailed the Nightingale with 'Jug, jug, jug!'
Whereat, for empty cup, the White Rose wept.

Enter with me where yonder door hangs out
Its Red Triangle to a world of drought,
    Inviting to the Palace of the Djinn,
Where Death, Aladdin, waits as Chuckerout.

Methought, last night, that one in suit of woe
Stood by the Tavern-door and whispered, 'Lo,
    The Pledge departed, what avails the Cup?
Then take the Pledge and let the Wine-cup go.'

But I: 'For every thirsty soul that drains
This Anodyne of Thought its rim contains--
    Free-will the can, Necessity the must,
Pour off the must, and, see, the ca...

Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch