Poems Teachers Ask For. Various

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There were men with hoary hair Amidst that pilgrim band: Why had they come to wither there Away from their childhood's land? There was woman's fearless eye, Lit by her deep love's truth; There was manhood's brow serenely high, And the fiery heart of youth. What sought they thus afar? Bright jewels of the mine? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war?— They sought a faith's pure shrine. Ay, call it holy ground— The soil where first they trod! They have left unstained what there they found— Freedom to worship God! Felicia Hemans.

Bobby Shaftoe

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"Marie, will you marry me?

For you know how I love thee!

Tell me, darling, will you be

The wife of Bobby Shaftoe?"

"Bobby, pray don't ask me more,

For you've asked me twice before;

Let us be good friends, no more,

No more, Bobby Shaftoe."

"If you will not marry me,

I will go away to sea;

And you ne'er again shall be

A friend of Bobby Shaftoe."

"Oh, you will not go away

For you've said so twice to-day.

Stop! He's gone! Dear Bobby, stay!

Dearest Bobby Shaftoe!

"Bobby Shaftoe's gone to sea,

Silver buckles on his knee,

But he'll come back and marry me,

Pretty Bobby Shaftoe.

"He will soon come back to me,

And how happy I shall be,

He'll come back and marry me,

Dearest Bobby Shaftoe."

"Bobby Shaftoe's lost at sea,

He cannot come back to thee.

And you ne'er again will see

Your dear Bobby Shaftoe.

"Oh, we sadly mourn for thee,

And regret we ne'er shall see

Our friend Bobby, true and free,

Dearest Bobby Shaftoe."

"Bobby Shaftoe's lost at sea.

And can ne'er come back to me,

But I'll ever faithful be,

True to Bobby Shaftoe."

"Darling, I've come home from sea,

I've come back to marry thee,

For I know you're true to me,

True to Bobby Shaftoe."

"Yes, I always cared for thee,

And now you've come back to me,

And we will always happy be,

Dearest Bobby Shaftoe."

"Bobby Shaftoe's come from sea,

And we will united be,

Heart and hand in unity,

Mr. and Mrs. Shaftoe."

The Overworked Elocutionist

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      (Or "ROBERT REESE")

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Once there was a little boy

Whose name was Robert Reese,

And every Friday afternoon

He had to speak a piece.

So many poems thus he learned

That soon he had a store