Full Online Books
BOOK CATEGORIES
Authors Authors Short Stories Short Stories Long Stories Long Stories Funny Stories Funny Stories Love Stories Love Stories Stories For Kids Stories For Kids Poems Poems Essays Essays Nonfictions Nonfictions Plays Plays Folktales Folktales Fairy Tales Fairy Tales Fables Fables Learning Kitchen Learning Kitchen
LINKS
Valid XHTML 1.0 Transitional Free Classified Website Without Registration Free Classified Website Daniel Company
Twitter Twitter Add book
donate
Full Online Book HomePoemsThe Huxter
Famous Authors (View All Authors)
The Huxter Post by :malcott Category :Poems Author :Edward Thomas Date :October 2011 Read :2961

Click below to download : The Huxter (Format : PDF)

The Huxter

HE has a hump like an ape on his back;
He has of money a plentiful lack;
And but for a gay coat of double his girth
There is not a plainer thing on the earth
This fine May morning.

But the huxter has a bottle of beer;
He drives a cart and his wife sits near
Who does not heed his lack or his hump;
And they laugh as down the lane they bump
This fine May morning.

(The end)
Edward Thomas's poem: Huxter

If you like this book please share to your friends :
NEXT BOOKS

The Broken Model: To One Who Well Deserved The Strictures The Broken Model: To One Who Well Deserved The Strictures

The Broken Model: To One Who Well Deserved The Strictures
TO ONE WHO WELL DESERVED THE STRICTURES WHICH THESE LINES CONTAIN. When Nature saw she'd made a perfect man She broke the mould and threw away the pieces, Which being found by Satan, he began And stuck the bits together--hence the creases, The twists, the crooked botches, that we find-- Sad counterfeits of Nature's perfect moulding; Hearts wrongly placed--a topsy-turvy mind-- Things that deserve the scorn of all beholding. It needs no oracle in Delphic shade To name the model from which
PREVIOUS BOOKS

It Rains It Rains

It Rains
IT rains, and nothing stirs within the fenceAnywhere through the orchard's untrodden, denseForest of parsley. The great diamondsOf rain on the grassblades there is none to break,Or the fallen petals further down to shake.And I am nearly as happy as possibleTo search the wilderness in vain though well,To think of two walking, kissing there,Drenched, yet forgetting the kisses of the rain:Sad, too, to think that never, never again,Unless alone, so happy shall I walkIn the rain. When I turn away, on its fine stalkTwilight has fined to naught, the parsley flowerFigures, suspended still and ghostly white,The past hovering as it revisits
NEXT 10 BOOKS | PREVIOUS 10 BOOKS | RANDOM 10 BOOKS
LEAVE A COMMENT