Joseph Skipsey

(March 17, 1832 - September 3,1903 / Percy, Northumberland)

Joseph Skipsey Poems

121. A Cry For Poland 9/11/2014
122. Just The Way 9/15/2014
123. A Golden Lot 9/15/2014
124. To A Startled Bird 9/15/2014
125. The Vital Spark: An Inner Voice 9/15/2014
126. The Downfall Of Mammon; Or, The Poet's Dream 9/15/2014
127. The Riddle Read 9/15/2014
128. The Mission 9/15/2014
129. Behind The Veil 9/15/2014
130. The Theft 9/4/2014
131. Lost At The Fair 9/4/2014
132. Extreme Kindness 9/10/2014
133. Steeds And Their Riders 9/10/2014
134. The Soul's Hereafter 9/15/2014
135. The Thought Toiler 9/15/2014
136. The Guardian Angel 9/15/2014
137. Man What Is He? 9/23/2014
138. The Inner Conflict 9/15/2014
139. The Vision 9/6/2014
140. Just So 9/11/2014
141. Life And Death 9/8/2014
142. A Lullaby 9/4/2014
143. The Collier Lad 9/4/2014
144. Nanny To Bessy 9/4/2014
145. The Fatal Errand 9/3/2014
146. Thistle And Nettle 9/3/2014
147. Get Up! 1/3/2003
148. The Hartley Calamity 1/3/2003
149. Hey Robin 9/3/2014
150. Arachne 9/4/2014
151. Not Jealous 9/10/2014
152. Jack The Rover 9/10/2014
153. What Is Man? 9/15/2014
154. Annie Lee 9/3/2014
155. The Bridal Gift 9/4/2014
156. Mother Wept 1/1/2004
157. Uncouth Things 9/10/2014
158. Robin Redbreast 9/4/2014
159. Bubble-Blowing 9/6/2014

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Best Poem of Joseph Skipsey

Bubble-Blowing

FROM the pipe-end off it glides,
Many hued appearing;
What, if cynic harsh derides,
Sets the boys a-staring.
In their eyes gleam its dyes,
Glow with radiance rarer
Till they cry 'how bright! Yon sky
Hath no planet fairer!'
Nay, nought else can be so fair,
Naught, sir, more entrancing;
Blow it here, blow it there—
Keep the bubble dancing!

Sailing thro' the air it goes,
While the urchins stretching
Out their chins, upon their toes
Blow the thing bewitching:
So blows Dick, and 'ha, ha!' cries,
At the ...

Read the full of Bubble-Blowing

The Butterfly

The butterfly from flower to flower
The urchin chas’d; and, when at last
He caught it in my lady’s bower,
He cried, “Ha, ha!” and held it fast.

Awhile he laugh’d, but soon he wept,
When looking at the prize he’d caught
He found he had to ruin swept
The very glory he had sought

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