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John Bannister Tabb

In Chicago

Of forthcoming weather no prophet have they,
For the ground hog is there to be seen every day.

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Time's Legacy

The night so long to Grief,
The day to Joy so brief,
What shall Eternity
To each, unaltered, be!

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The Morning Star

The latest beacon spark
Upon the western way
To guide thro' shallowing dark
The silver sails of Day.

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On The Cover Of John B. Tabb's Late London Volume

His eyes are dim;
And so for him,
They thought in London, 'twas enough
To bind his book in blind-man's buff.

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Explanation

'Tis evident that such a name
As mine to Mr. Dobson came,
Like Cinderella's shoe-it fit
The foot; so, on he buckled it.

Always affectionately yours.'

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Sausage

We are ground, but no more grounded
In our family affairs:
What is found, is so confounded
That no Sausage longer cares
To determine how or what he
Owes the family of Pork,
In the pens of Cincinnati,
Of Chicago, or New York.

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On The Forthcoming Volume Of Sidney Lenier's Poems

Snow! Snow! Snow!
Do thy worst, Winter, but know, but know
That, when the Spring cometh, a blossom shall blow
From the heart of the Poet that sleeps below,
And his name to the ends of the earth shall go,
In spite of the snow!

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A Disconcerted Concert

Bull father frog
Was on the log,
While many a little fellow
Around the pool
Upon his stool
Sat learning how to bellow.


A turtle near,
Whom all did fear,-
An enemy to noises-
His head upsent,
And down they went
To drown, alas, their voices.

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Frog-Making

Said Frog papa to Frog mamma,
'Where is our little daughter?'
Said Frog mamma to Frog papa,
'She's underneath the water.'


Then down the anxious father went,
And there, indeed, he found her,
A-tickling tadpoles, till they kicked
Their tails off all around her.

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The Half-Ring Moon

Over the sea, over the sea,
My love he is gone to a far countrie;
But he brake a golden ring with me
The pledge of his faith to be.


Over the sea, over the sea,
He comes no more from the far countrie;
But at night, where the new moon loved to be,
Hangs the half of a ring for me.

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