Hilaire Belloc

(27 July 1870 – 16 July 1953 / La Celle-Saint-Cloud)

Hilaire Belloc Poems

1. [month Of) July 4/3/2010
2. [month Of] April 4/3/2010
3. [month Of] August 4/3/2010
4. [month Of] December 4/3/2010
5. [month Of] February 4/3/2010
6. [month Of] January 4/3/2010
7. [month Of] June 4/3/2010
8. [month Of] March 4/3/2010
9. [month Of] May 4/3/2010
10. [month Of] November 4/3/2010
11. [month Of] October 4/3/2010
12. [month Of] October 12/31/2002
13. [month Of] September 1/3/2003
14. A Moral Alphabet (Excerpt) 4/3/2010
15. A Trinity 1/3/2003
16. Algernon 12/31/2002
17. An Author’s Hope 4/3/2010
18. Ballade Of Modest Confession 4/3/2010
19. Ballade To Our Lady Of Czestochowa 12/31/2002
20. Because My Faltering Feet 12/31/2002
21. Cautionary Tales For Children: Introduction 4/3/2010
22. Charles Augustus Fortescue 12/31/2002
23. Courtesy 4/3/2010
24. Criterion 4/3/2010
25. Cuckoo! 4/3/2010
26. Drinking Song, On The Excellence Of Burgundy Wine 5/9/2001
27. Epitah On The Politician Himself 4/3/2010
28. Epitaph On The Favourite Dog Of A Politician 4/3/2010
29. Fatigue 4/3/2010
30. Franklin Hyde 12/31/2002
31. From: Dedicatory Ode 4/3/2010
32. George 12/31/2002
33. Godolphin Horne 12/31/2002
34. Habitations 4/3/2010
35. Ha'Nacker Mill 12/31/2002
36. Henry King 12/31/2002
37. Her Final Role 4/3/2010
38. Heretics All 5/9/2001
39. Heroic Poem In Praise Of Wine 12/31/2002
40. Hildebrand 12/31/2002
Best Poem of Hilaire Belloc

Tarantella

Do you remember an Inn,
Miranda?
Do you remember an Inn?
And the tedding and the spreading
Of the straw for a bedding,
And the fleas that tease in the High Pyrenees,
And the wine that tasted of tar?
And the cheers and the jeers of the young muleteers
(Under the vine of the dark veranda)?
Do you remember an Inn, Miranda,
Do you remember an Inn?
And the cheers and the jeers of the young muleteers
Who hadn't got a penny,
And who weren't paying any,
And the hammer at the doors and the din?
And the hip! hop! hap!
Of the clap
Of the hands to the ...

Read the full of Tarantella

Henry King

The Chief Defect of Henry King
Was chewing little bits of String.
At last he swallowed some which tied
Itself in ugly Knots inside.

Physicians of the Utmost Fame
Were called at once; but when they came
They answered, as they took their Fees,
"There is no Cure for this Disease.

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