William Schwenck Gilbert

(1836 - 1911 / London / England)

William Schwenck Gilbert Poems

1. The Played-Out Humorist 1/1/2004
2. The Reverend Simon Magus 1/1/2004
3. The Sensation Captain 1/1/2004
4. The Mystic Selvagee 1/1/2004
5. The House Of Peers 1/1/2004
6. The Folly Of Brown - By A General Agent 1/1/2004
7. The National Anthem 1/1/2004
8. The Modest Couple 1/1/2004
9. The Perils Of Invisibility 1/1/2004
10. The Periwinkle Girl 1/1/2004
11. The Phantom Curate 1/1/2004
12. The Sorcerer's Song 1/1/2004
13. The Haughty Actor 1/1/2004
14. The Force Of Argument 1/1/2004
15. The Family Fool 1/1/2004
16. The Reverend Micah Sowls 1/1/2004
17. The Rover's Apology 1/1/2004
18. The Precocious Baby - A Very True Tale 1/1/2004
19. The Two Majors 1/1/2004
20. The Sorcerer: Act I 1/1/2004
21. The Troubadour 1/1/2004
22. The Story Of Prince Agib 1/1/2004
23. The Philosophic Pill 1/1/2004
24. The Three Kings Of Chickeraboo 1/1/2004
25. The Rival Curates 1/1/2004
26. The Mighty Must 1/1/2004
27. King Borria Bungalee Boo 4/15/2010
28. The Heavy Dragoon 1/1/2004
29. The Bishop Of Rum-Ti-Foo 1/1/2004
30. Poetry Everywhere 1/1/2004
31. The Baby's Vengeance 1/1/2004
32. Peter The Wag 1/1/2004
33. Out Of Sorts 1/1/2004
34. Her Terms 1/1/2004
35. Sir Macklin 1/1/2004
36. The Bishop Of Rum-Ti-Foo Again 1/1/2004
37. Sleep On! 1/1/2004
38. Limited Liability 1/1/2004
39. The British Tar 1/1/2004
40. The Sorcerer: Act Ii 1/1/2004
Best Poem of William Schwenck Gilbert

The Yarn Of The Nancy Bell

'Twas on the shores that round our coast
From Deal to Ramsgate span,
That I found alone on a piece of stone
An elderly naval man.

His hair was weedy, his beard was long,
And weedy and long was he,
And I heard this wight on the shore recite,
In a singular minor key:

"Oh, I am a cook and a captain bold,
And the mate of the NANCY brig,
And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,
And the crew of the captain's gig."

And he shook his fists and he tore his hair,
Till I really felt afraid,
For I couldn't help thinking the man had been drinking,
And ...

Read the full of The Yarn Of The Nancy Bell

The Judge's Song

When I, good friends, was called to the Bar,
I'd an appetite fresh and hearty,
But I was, as many young barristers are,
An impecunious party.
I'd a swallow-tail coat of a beautiful blue -
A brief which was brought by a booby -
A couple of shirts and a collar or two,
And a ring that looked like a ruby!

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