I’ve whined of coming death, but now, no more!

Of the mightAnd the rightOf classic tradition,In writingAnd recitingStraight ahead,Without let or omission,Just any little rhymeIn any little timeThat runs in my head;Because, I’ve said,My rhymes no longer shall stand arrayedLike Prussian soldiers on paradeThat march,Stiff as starch,Foot to foot,Boot to boot,Blade to blade,Button to button,Cheeks and chops and chins like mutton.No! No!My rhymes must…

Wake my lazy head!Your shoes of red morocco,Your silk bed-gown:Rouse, rouse, speck-eyed MaryIn your high bed!A yawn, a smile, sleepy-starey,Mary climbs down.‘Good-morning to my brothers,Good-day to the Sun,Halloo, halloo to the lily-white sheepThat up the mountain run.’II.Good-night to the meadow, farewell to the nine o’clock Sun,‘He loves me not, loves me, he loves me not’…

Gather to your fairy piperWhen he pipes his magic tune:Merry, merry,Take a cherry;Mine are sounder,Mine are rounder,Mine are sweeterFor the eaterUnder the moon.And you’ll be fairies soon.In the cherry pluckt at night,With the dew of summer swelling,There’s a juice of pure delight,Cool, dark, sweet, divinely smelling.Merry, merry,Take a cherry;Mine are sounder,Mine are rounder,Mine are sweeterFor…

Mother: The cupboard of red mahoganyWith handles shining clear.Mary: That cupboard, dearest mother,With shining crystal handles?There’s nought inside but rags and jagsAnd yellow tallow candles.Mother: What’s in that cupboard, Mary?Mary: Which cupboard, mother mine?Mother: That cupboard stands in your sunny chamber,The silver corners shine.Mary: There’s nothing there inside, mother,But wool and thread and flax,And bits…

(For nothing living yet had birthBut Elemental Cow on earth)Began to lick cold stones and mud:Under her warm tongue flesh and bloodBlossomed, a miracle to believe:And so was Adam born, and Eve.Here now is chaos once again,Primeval mud, cold stones and rain.Here flesh decays and blood drips red,And the Cow’s dead, the old Cow’s dead.

Balow lalow or Hey derry down,Or else what might you fancy?Is there any song sweet enoughFor Nancy and for Jenny?Said Simple Simon to the pieman,‘Indeed I know not any.’‘I’ve counted the miles to Babylon,I’ve flown the earth like a bird,I’ve ridden cock-horse to Banbury Cross,But no such song have I heard.’‘Some speak of Alexander,And some…