Hilaire Belloc Poems

The Microbe is so very small
You cannot make him out at all,
But many sanguine people hope
To see him through a microscope.
...

I

Behold, my child, the Nordic man,
And be as like him, as you can;
...

Wherever the Catholic sun doth shine,
There's always laughter and good red wine.
At least I've always found it so.
Benedicamus Domino!
...

Who was cursed with the Sin of Pride, and Became a Boot-Black.

Godolphin Horne was Nobly Born;
He held the Human Race in Scorn,
...

The Lion, the Lion, he dwells in the Waste,
He has a big head and a very small waist;
But his shoulders are stark, and his jaws they are grim,
And a good little child will not play with him.
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The Vulture eats between his meals,
And that's the reason why
He very, very, rarely feels
As well as you and I.
...

When I am living in the Midlands
That are sodden and unkind,
I light my lamp in the evening:
My work is left behind;
...

Who was too Freely Moved to Tears, and thereby ruined his Political Career

Lord Lundy from his earliest years
Was far too freely moved to Tears.
...

My jolly fat host with your face all a-grin,
Come, open the door to us, let us come in.
A score of stout fellows who think it no sin
...