William Makepeace Thackeray Poems

KING CANUTE was weary hearted; he had reigned for years a score,
Battling, struggling, pushing, fighting, killing much and robbing more;
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There lived a sage in days of yore,
And he a handsome pigtail wore;
But wondered much and sorrowed more,
Because it hung behind him.
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Persicos odi
Puer, apparatus;
Displicent nexae
Philyra coronae:
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Come to the greenwood tree,
Come where the dark woods be,
Dearest, O come with me!
Let us rove—O my love—O my love!
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Although I enter not,
Yet round about the spot,
Ofttimes I hover,
And near the sacred gate,
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Werther had a love for Charlotte
Such as words could never utter;
Would you know how first he met her?
She was cutting bread and butter.
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Christmas is here:
Winds whistle shrill,
Icy and chill,
Little care we:
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For the sole edification
Of this decent congregation,
Goodly people, by your grant
I will sing a holy chant --
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Beside the old hall-fire—upon my nurse's knee,
Of happy fairy days—what tales were told to me!
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Special Jurymen of England! who admire your country's laws,
And proclaim a British Jury worthy of the realm's applause;
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