Hm. Nes Poems
The Tale Of William Tell
The arrow flew, but none could tell
If apple pierced or humble son,
Until one or the other fell-
Determined contest lost or won.
The dart flew like a bat from hell
Toward Walter, son of William Tell.
Sir William Tell refused to bow
Before the lords who ruled the land.
And hated they his stubborn prow,
But feared the crossbow in his hand.
'He must be forced to bend somehow! '
So swore they all with solemn vow.
And then: 'A contest we shall call!
'Let William shoot his famous bow
'At distance great and target small,
'And so by doing he can...
No More Gay
I don't need words as much as words need me,
For I may live in silence; not so words,
Which cannot survive in obscurity.
And oft words lose their true identity
From ill-use of vulgar mouths; blessed words-
Destroyed, defaced, banished to infamy.
O that good men could once again be gay,