Mary Had A Little Frog
Mary had a little frog
And it was water-soaked,
But Mary did not keep it long
Because, of course, it croaked!
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
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Deer
The deer's a mighty useful beast
From Petersburg to Tennyson
For while he lives he lopes around
And when he's dead he's venison.
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
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Dogs
Dogs is mighty useful beasts
They might seem bad at first
They might seem worser right along
But when they're dead
They're wurst.
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
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To May
I have no heart to write verses to May;
I have no heart—yet I’m cheerful today;
I have no heart—she has won mine away
So—I have no heart to write verses to May.
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
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A Scotchman Whose Name Was Isbister
A Scotchman whose name was Isbister
Had a maiden giraffe he called 'sister'
When she said 'Oh, be mine,
Be my sweet Valentine!'
He just shinned up her long neck and kissed her.
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
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How'd You Like It?
Well, then! How'd you like to bear the name of Butler
As an honor badge eight centuries at least,
And then have the Prohibitionists inform you
That a butler is a sort of outlawed beast?
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
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Valentine To The Girl In Black
In hand I take this pen of mine
To write you, sweet, a valentine;
I’d take your dainty hand instead,
But—you’re a drawing—I am wed—
And that is why, you understand,
I only take my pen in hand.
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
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At Variance
When with me the play she goes,
I much admire the buds and bows
And all that on Kate’s headgear grows.
But when some other night I see
That hat between the stage and me,
My taste and Kate’s do not agree.
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
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Immortality
I bowed my head in anguish sore
When Life made Death his bride;
'Soul, we are lost forever more!'
Unto my soul I cried.
'Nay, waste in wailing not thy breath,'
My soul replied to me,
'Behold! The child of Life and Death
Is Immortality!'
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
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To Phyllis And May
O! fair, sweet Phyllis and sweet, fair May,
Which of you carried my heart away?
Who has my heart? I would like to know
Which was the guilty one of the two,
But I only know it was filched one day
By fair, sweet Phyllis, or sweet, fair May.
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
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