Hilaire Belloc

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

Hilaire Belloc Poems

1. Lord Roehampton 3/20/2015
2. The Face 4/3/2010
3. Her Final Role 4/3/2010
4. The Bison 4/3/2010
5. [month Of] October 4/3/2010
6. From: Dedicatory Ode 4/3/2010
7. The False Heart 4/3/2010
8. The Diamond 4/3/2010
9. Fatigue 4/3/2010
10. The Fragment 4/3/2010
11. Lord Lundy Ii - Second Canto 4/3/2010
12. [month Of] August 4/3/2010
13. The Elm 4/3/2010
14. Epitah On The Politician Himself 4/3/2010
15. [month Of] January 4/3/2010
16. Criterion 4/3/2010
17. King's Land 4/3/2010
18. Habitations 4/3/2010
19. Introduction: More Beasts For Worse Children 4/3/2010
20. [month Of] December 4/3/2010
21. [month Of] November 4/3/2010
22. Introduction: The Bad Child's Book Of Beasts 4/3/2010
23. [month Of] March 4/3/2010
24. Cuckoo! 4/3/2010
25. [month Of) July 4/3/2010
26. Epitaph On The Favourite Dog Of A Politician 4/3/2010
27. Ballade Of Modest Confession 4/3/2010
28. [month Of] May 4/3/2010
29. The Llama 4/3/2010
30. An Author’s Hope 4/3/2010
31. The Rebel 4/3/2010
32. To A Rhinoceros 4/3/2010
33. [month Of] June 4/3/2010
34. Courtesy 4/3/2010
35. [month Of] April 4/3/2010
36. Cautionary Tales For Children: Introduction 4/3/2010
37. The Gnu 4/3/2010
38. A Moral Alphabet (Excerpt) 4/3/2010
39. [month Of] February 4/3/2010
40. Sarah Byng, Who Could Not Read And Was Tossed Into A Thorny Hedge By A Bull 4/3/2010
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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