1 A little sigh, a little shiver— And that means liver. A little liver when June is nigh, And then we die. 2 Daffodils in English fields And breezes in the clover; But here's a sun would strike you dead Seven times over! 3 Cook's tourist comes and goes— He is but a rover, While I watch the burning sun Turn over and over. 4 And I dream of daffodils And the breezy clover; Turning on my little bed, Over and over. 5 In England elm-leaves fall When winter winds blow keen, But the Indian pipâl Is always gay and green. 6 Ne'er in rain or sunshine Leaf or blossom dies— But I'd give the world for an English elm Under English skies! 7 Here's a mongoose Dead in the sluice Of the bath-room drain. How was he slain? He must have lain Days, it is plain . . . Stopper your nose, Throw him out to the crows. 8 Tara Chand is the gardener's mate, And labours late and early; But Dunni is my pony's sais, And steals the golden barley. 9 Golden barley, roses red, Rejoice in your morning beauty! For I have broken Tara's head, And given Dunni chuti.
Choose another poem
.