poem: The Wood Nymph by Ellis Parker Butler
A glint of her hair or a flash of her shoulder —
That is the most I can boast to have seen,
Then all is lost as the shadows enfold her,
Forest glades making a screen of their green,
Could I cast off all the cares of tomorrow— Could I forget all the fret of today
Then, my heart free from the burdens I borrow,
Nature’s chaste spirit her face would display.poem by Ellis Parker Butler
poem: To G. M. W. And G. F. W. by Ellis Parker Butler
Whenas—(I love that “whenas” word—
It shows I am a poet, too,)
Q. Horace Flaccus gaily stirred
The welkin with his tra-la-loo,
He little thought one donkey’s back
Would carry thus a double load—
Father and son upon one jack,
Galumphing down the Tibur Road.
II
Old is the tale—Aesop’s, I think—
Of that famed miller and his son
Whose fortunes were so “on the blink”
They had one donk, and only one;
You know the tale—the critic’s squawk
(As pater that poor ass bestrode)—
“Selfish! To make thy fine son walk!”
Perhaps that was on Tibur Road?III
You will recall how dad got down
And made the son the ass bestride:—
The critics shouted with a frown:
“Shame, boy! pray let thy father ride!”
Up got the dad beside the son;
The donkey staggered with the load
“Poor donk! For shame!” cried every one
That walked the (was it?) Tibur Road.
IV
You know the end! Upon their backs
Daddy and son with much ado
Boosted that most surprised of jacks,—
He kicked, and off the bridge he flew;
“He! haw!” A splash! A gurgling sound—
A long, last watery abode—
In Anio’s stream the donk was drowned—
(If this occurred on Tibur Road.)
V
Let Donkey represent the Odes;
The Miller represent G. M.;
The Son stand for G. F.; the loads
Of Critics—I will do for them.
Now, then, this proposition made,
(And my bum verses “Ah’d” and “Oh’d!”).
What Q. E. D. can be displayed
Anent this “On the Tibur Road”?
VI
First, Horry’s dead and he don’t care,
So cancel him, and let him snore;
His Donkey has been raised in air
So oft he’s tough and calloused o’er;
Our Miller—dusty-headed man—
Follows the best donk-boosting code:
Our Son—dispute it no one can—
Sings gaily down the Tibur Road.
VII
This, then, must be this Critic’s scream:—
The donk was boosted well and high,
And, ergo! falling in the stream,
Isn’t and ain’t and can’t be dry;
Nor is your book. Which is to say
It is no gloomy episode—
You’ve made a dead donk sweetly bray,
And joyful is the Tibur Road.poem by Ellis Parker Butler
poem: To Jessica, Gone Back To The City by Ellis Parker Butler
Sence fair Jessica hez left us
Seems ez ef she hed bereft us,
When she went, o’ half o’ livin’;
Fer we never knowed she’d driven
Into us so much content,
Till fair Jessica hed went.
(Knowed a feller once thet cried
When his yaller dog hed died.)
We hain’t near ez bright an’ chirky,
An’ the sun shines blue an’ murky,
Kind o’ sadly an’ dishearted,
Like ets sperret bed departed;
Just ez ef ets joy bed ceased
Sence fair Jessica ’s gone East.
(Not but what ets always sober
Sort o’ weather in October.)
Then the posies, too, seems human,
An’ hez all quit o’ their bloomin’;
An’ the trees they show a pallor
An’ hey turned a heart-sick yaller,
Sayin’, “No use livin’ on
Ef fair Jessica hez gone.”
(Folks thet knows sez this ez all
Very common in the fall.)
Truth ez, I’m a-feelin’ sadly;
Things ez goin’ kind o’ badly
Round my heart an’ other vitals
(Brings on poetry recitals
O’ my woes ‘most ev’ry day)
Sence fair Jessica’s away.
(Kind o’ think thet I will haf ter
Smoke a leetle less hereafter.)
But, with fun aside, you know,
We’re blamed sorry she must go;
An’ we hope she’ll think, maybe,
‘Z well o’ us ez we o’ she.poem by Ellis Parker Butler
poem: To Kate. (In Lieu Of A Valentine) by Ellis Parker Butler
Sweet Love and I had oft communed;
We were, indeed, great friends,
And oft I sought his office, near
Where Courtship Alley ends.
I used to sit with him, and smoke,
And talk of your blue eyes,
And argue how I best might act
To make your heart my prize.
He always seemed to have much time
To hear me tell my joy,
So that I came to deem him but
An idle, lazy boy.
But on St. Valentine his day,
I found him hard at work,
As if he had a mighty task
And did not dare to shirk;
And o’er his head there hung a card
That made me haste away;
It bore these words—
Please make it short.
This is my busy day!
And so, Sweet maiden; if I send
No valentine, you see
The reason here; Love could not waste
His precious time on me!poem by Ellis Parker Butler
poem: To Lovers by Ellis Parker Butler
Ho, ye lovers, list to me;
Warning words have I for thee:
Give ye heed, hefore ye wed,
To this thing Sir Chaucer said:
“Love wol not be constrained by maistrie,
When maistrie cometh, the god of love anon
Beteth his winges, and farewel, he is gon.”
Other poets knew as well,
And the same sad story tell,
Hark ye, heed ye, while ye may,
What the worldly Pope doth say:
“Love, free as air, at sight of human ties
Spreads his light wings and in a moment flies.”
This, Sir Hudibras, brave knight,
Faithful lover, constant wight,
From his lady’s lips did hear;
Mark ye, eke, the warning clear:
“Love is too generous t’abide
To be against its nature ty’d,
For where ’tis of itself inclin’d,
It breaks loose when it is confin’d.”
Ho, ye lovers, shall I tell
How through life with Love to dwell,
Spite of all the poets say?
Harken to the easy way:—
Strive to bind him not, but see
That the little god binds thee.poem by Ellis Parker Butler